Shanghai
by MissTeak
Summary: She had been raised to think that all Japanese were cruel and bloodthirsty people, only to have her life changed completely when she came across a gravely injured silver-haired mafia member one night in the darkened alleys of Shanghai.
1. A city that never sleeps

A/N: This idea came to me a few weeks ago, and since then, I've been working furiously on this story. I didn't want to post it up initially, but my laptop of five years is in falling in and out of a comatose state, and I figured it was better to do something about the countless word documents in it before the poor machine dies on me.

Also, I would like to dedicate this chapter to a few lovely friends of mine from Dokuga, namely **Madison**, **Electric** and **EagleFeathersInMyHair**for previewing and giving me their opinions on this story.

Set in Shanghai in the 1930s, this story will revolve around themes of a forbidden love between a Chinese songstress at a nightclub and a Japanese mafia member. It will involve social issues of interracial hostilities, cultural differences, language barriers and the Sino-Japanese war, better known as World War II to many of us.

* * *

"_Night Shanghai, Night Shanghai, you're a city that never sleeps…"_

He took a long drag on his Tuscania cigar, appreciating the better quality which common Parejo cigars could never offer. The lingering scent of oak was a unique blend of creaminess and spiciness, something he had never experienced before. It was pleasant and unique, just like the rest of Shanghai.

He had never been to this part of the world prior to this trip, and he had to admit; Shanghai was really living up to its reputation of being the Paris of Asia. Prosperous and vibrant with heavy influence from the West, Shanghai was nothing like what he had always imagined it to be. He had expected to see a place filled with Chinese and perhaps other Asians just like himself, but no, there was a sizeable and growing population of Caucasians, Indians and Middle Easterners. The economy was bustling, the land was in a state of rapid modernization and popular culture was rapidly taking roots in the local society. The 1930s was indeed a golden period for this place.

He had spent his entire life in Japan, and while Japan had its fair share of entertainment districts, they did not have anything which could be compared to the place in which he currently was.

"_Glamorous lights are lit, music starts, song and dance flourish." _

Golden Phoenix Lounge was the first place of entertainment those Chinese men brought him to, probably in hopes of impressing him, and true enough, they had succeeded. It was very different from the nightclubs he was used to in Japan, and he was not only referring to the language difference. The songs, the atmosphere, the clients, the performers…everything was different. He knew not a word of the Chinese language or Shanghai dialect, but while he might not exactly understand the lyrics of the song reverberating within the smoky, fragrant air inside the lounge, he could appreciate the visual pleasures very well indeed.

Prior to the singing performance he was currently watching, there had been acrobatic performances as well, one of which had impressively merged acrobatics with music. The performers had danced around a huge drum as traditional Chinese music played, skillfully beating the large instrument while executing seemingly-impossible acrobatic moves with grace. He had never seen such a performance in Japan, and it had been an eye-opener for him.

"_Look at her; she welcomes you with a bright smile, but who would understand the misery within her heart? Such night life is merely for making a living!"_

Standing in the center of all the oriental opulence, bright gaudy lights, trumpeting music and the pungent fragrances of alcohol and cigar smoke, was a girl. Slender and petite, she was dressed in a form-fitting red cheongsam with gold embroidery of pussy willows and plum blossoms that ended at her mid-thigh. Every movement she made as she danced and sang into the microphone on the stand caused the slit in the side of her cheongsam to split, revealing the creamy skin of her thigh. Such were the delights of the Chinese cheongsam, he mused. The Japanese kimono was elegant and definitely comparable to the cheongsam in terms of their multitude of exquisite prints, but it was nowhere as effective in accentuating beautiful, soft, feminine curves.

The large crimson rose in her hairdo contrasted starkly against her hair and complimented her cheongsam well, but did nothing to steal the limelight from her face. Her visage was small with large doe eyes, a pert, small nose and perfectly rouged lips. It was her face which drew him in like a spell, he realized, as he chose to exhale in that moment. The hazy tendrils of smoke from his cigar enveloped her lithe form in his vision, and gave her a delicate ethereal touch. Now he finally understood the alluring charms of such places of entertainment, and why it was that there were so many men who couldn't stop visiting.

"_Wine does not intoxicate, but people get drunk by themselves all the same…"_

She continued singing melodiously, her large, round eyes sparkling in the flashing lights of the lounge's interior. He found himself watching her lips as they parted and closed like the rouge petals, yet intrigued by the fact that he could understand not a word of what she was singing so passionately.

"Sesshoumaru-san," The man sitting by his side called out rather loudly over the music, before talking to their translator in Chinese.

The young translator then turned to him and asked in Japanese, "Mr. Zhao asks if you are interested in that lady performing on stage, Sesshoumaru-san."

"She is attractive." He commented, not taking his eyes off her.

"You have excellent taste in women, Sesshoumaru-san. That girl is the most popular songstress here at Golden Phoenix." The stocky young man translated accordingly. "Her name is A-Lee, though she is better known as the Shanghai Warbler."

_(A/N: 'A-Lee' is Kagome's name in the Chinese version of the anime and manga, and for those who understand the language, her name is written as _日暮籬_)_

"The Shanghai Warbler…" He allowed her title to roll off his tongue like a little tune. It did not come as a surprise; she was indeed blessed with a rich, clear and sweet voice like that of the songbird. "I have long heard that Shanghai boasts extraordinary beauty; the best of the Orient, they say. Apparently, it is not merely groundless hearsay."

Sesshoumaru paused to give the translator some time to put across what he had said to Zhao in Chinese, quietly noting the way the older man chuckled almost lecherously and nodded in agreement.

"The girls are not only beautiful; they are very talented as well. In fact, Sesshoumaru-san should visit Golden Phoenix again in the near future to hear A-Lee sing. The lively song which she's singing is arguably the most popular song in Shanghai right now, but you should hear her sing ballads." Zhao continued, raising a thumbs-up sign at Sesshoumaru as the translator spoke simultaneously beside Sesshoumaru's ear. "The Shanghai Warbler did not earn her name for nothing; that girl could practically draw your soul out of you with her voice when she performs melancholic ballads."

"That calls for a second visit." He commented in reply, a wisp of a smile lingering on his lips. He would like to see how this petite woman had the ability to draw souls, especially when he didn't think of himself as having a soul any more.

Seeing that the handsome Japanese was revealing the slightest hint of interest in what he had to say, the Chinese merchant enthusiastically continued with a suggestive raise of his unruly bushy brow, while the translator translated accordingly.

"He says that if Sesshoumaru-san likes her, he can make some arrangements for the girl to be sent to your hotel room tonight. There's nothing money cannot do."

Pulling the cigar out from his mouth with a smirk on his lips, he shook his head subtly. It was almost revolting; how eager these dirty old men were in relating everything to the carnal pleasures. Some other men might have been grateful, but he never believed in buying sex. He never sought sex; sex came to him. It was ironic though, for the girl on the stage chose to extend her hand in the direction of the audience as if in invitation, while fanning her plush feather fan coyly.

"Tell him I appreciate his kind intentions, but that wouldn't be necessary."

Zhao appeared almost incredulous, and leaned in the smirk lecherously again. "Don't you want to have a taste of…Chinese delicacies?"

Sesshoumaru simply shook his head.

But in order not to give the other man the impression that he was offended in the least, he wrapped his fingers around the stem of the tulip glass by his hand and raised the glass of cognac in the Zhao's direction. Glasses clinked like a whisper in the surrounding music, and the earlier embarrassment on the older man's face disappeared to be replaced by hearty manly laughter.

Sesshoumaru's eyes returned to the woman singing on stage, observing the way her tight cheongsam creased with every sensual sway of her body to the rhythm of the music. The song was surprisingly nice, and it seemed to be a song which every Chinese present in the club knew by heart. He even saw the occasional Caucasian humming and nodding to the beat as the charming female continued her performance with dignified grace and professionalism.

That was perhaps why he did not accept the Chinese man's easy offer – the woman up on the stage did not seem like a common whore. Yes, she was beautiful and definitely dressed up to impress the male patrons of the night club, but at the same time, she was performing professionally. Her melodious voice hit all the high notes of the song beautifully, which was probably the result of long hours of practice and training.

It was along the lines of those thoughts that he figured she was most probably not selling her body, and he had no intention of buying it anyway. He might have been interested in spending a willing night with her; she was an attractive woman after all, but he was not here in Shanghai for leisure. There were much more important things for him to see to, and those priorities definitely came first.

Frivolous fun was not for him.

The song came to an end, and applause erupted across the floor as the charming songstress smiled and took a step back from her microphone stand. She bowed, before straightening her back to wave to the audience. Then the lights on the stage dimmed, and his eyes followed her lithe form as she walked to the side of the stage to disappear behind the curtains.

Politely, the translator conveyed his host's intention of sending him back to the hotel where he was staying, and Sesshoumaru nodded in courteous acknowledgement. He had enough of activities for now, and all he wanted to do was go back, shower and rest. There were more things to do the next day and he needed his energy. Snuffing what remained of his cigar in the ashtray on the table; he pushed his chair back and stood up.

Walking alongside the short, plump Chinese merchant, they made their way past the tables on the floor of the lounge. He noticed how the other patrons were casting discreet, curious glances at them, and the fear betrayed by their stiffened postures told him they knew of his identity.

Their attires might be a giveaway, and after all, which normal man had a gang of armed men in suits walking obediently behind him? He fought the urge to smirk as a skinny man sporting a goatee caught his gaze accidentally and practically shuddered before evading his eyes. If he was looking for some harmless fun, he might have gotten one of his men to go over to the table to smash a bottle of wine, just so he could witness the person's reaction. But he had had enough of entertainment for today.

The melody of the vibrant music lingered in his ears like a fading echo as he stepped through the doors of the lounge onto the brightly-lit streets of Shanghai. The chilly autumn air was punctuated with the voices of roadside stall hawkers, the rumble of rickshaw wheels running over the asphalt and the sounds of a nearby cobbler hard at work with a hammer.

Still keeping his phony smile on his broad face, the Chinese merchant continued making small talk, as if determined to make Sesshoumaru feel the extent of his hospitality. It did not come as a surprise to him, for his own business and survival depended very much on how well he managed to bootlick.

"Sesshoumaru-san, the car will be here in a few minutes…" The translator conveyed apologetically, while the merchant looked down the street impatiently for signs of approaching vehicles. "Mr. Zhao asks if you would like to have a drink in the meantime from one of the roadside-"

A first gunshot shattered the casual, bustling atmosphere in the streets of Shanghai into screaming smithereens. Shrieking with fear, the civilians either threw themselves flat onto the ground or squatted with their hands above their heads, trying desperately to keep out of harm's way as the gunshots came in rapid succession.

"Damn," He cursed under his breath. He should have known; the entire day had progressed too smoothly to be true, and there were bound to be rival gangs who would try to stir trouble. Another resounding shot rang out, and he instinctively reached for his own pistol, which was always secured at his waist, concealed by his trench coat. Pulling it out, he fired two aimless shots in the direction where the enemies were coming from, simply to scare them so as to stall for time.

"Sesshoumaru-sama, we have to go. The situation's not to our advantage." One of his men shouted in Japanese, before they all sprinted rapidly in the other direction. The Chinese merchant, Zhao, was positively spluttering with fear as he lumbered along with the help of his men, escaping as quickly as his stubby legs could carry him.

Ducking to avoid the whizzing gunshots, Sesshoumaru turned and fired a shot at one of the men who were hot on their heels. The morbid splatter of blood and the resounding thud of a body hitting the pavement told him he had hit his target. Yet there was no time for feeling triumphant; one of the men was down but there were still many of them behind. He was unable to gauge the enemy's strength, and logic dictated that they had to escape while they could.

A loud gurgle came from somewhere near him, and a sideward glance told him that one of Zhao's men had been shot right in the chest. The man stiffened, before lurching forward as if in slow motion, eliciting a disturbingly feminine shriek from the obese, middle-aged merchant.

The relentless gunshots continued coming their way, shattering the wooden pushcarts of unlucky roadside stalls lined up by the side of the main street. Lifting his arm to shield his face from flying splinters, Sesshoumaru knew that they could not keep this cat and mouse chase up for too long, especially when Shanghai was a foreign territory. The members of the enemy gang had obviously come prepared with the intent to exterminate them, and experience allowed him to gauge from the frequency of the gunshots that he was in a very perilous situation indeed. Beads of perspiration were rolling down from his temples into his eyes, and he blinked furiously, reaching back at the same time to send a few more shots in his enemies' direction.

The number of casualties on his side was rising in positive correlation to the passing seconds; every stride he took was accompanied by a cry of pain and a sickening thud against the stone pavement. He would have to think fast if he wanted to go back to Japan alive; he had never been afraid of dying, but at the age of twenty-nine, he had plenty to live for. Another agonized cry rang out from behind him, and his head whipped back to see one of his followers staggering behind him.

"Mushi!" He called out, reaching out for his injured comrade to steady the latter. They might be triad members, but there was an unbreakable code of loyalty and brotherhood binding all of them together. The bug-eyed young man was one of the sons of his faithful right-hand man, Jaken, and like his father, was almost loyal to a fault.

"Hang in there." Sesshoumaru whispered urgently, gripping the young man's arm tightly to jolt him. His eyes were already at half-mast, and that was a not a good sign. Valiantly, he fought hard to run ahead, but the rapidly spreading patch of red at his left chest told both men that it was going to be a futile fight.

With lips that were rapidly losing color, Mushi forced a small smile and said, "I can't make it, Sesshoumaru-sama…run…"

"What the hell are you talking about?" He asked through gritted teeth, voice shaking with the painful emotions which he was fighting to suppress. "We are going back to Japan together. Don't you dare die on me; I will never be able to face your father."

"You are surprisingly…wishy-washy for a powerful man…Sesshoumaru-sama…"

"You'd better stay alive so I can bash you up for that, Mushi." Sesshoumaru continued between heaving breaths as he dragged the fatally injured young man along, trying to run as fast as he could.

Mushi smiled wistfully and shook his head dismissively in the first and final act of disobedience to the man he had sworn loyalty to. "I am…not important. But you are…run while you can…Sesshoumaru-sama…and…" The bug-eyed young man smirked while wrenching his arm out of Sesshoumaru's grip in a burst of strength, before pulling out his own pistol. "Tell old Pops I love him, and tell him…to take care of Mom."

"No!"

"Just go!" With that said, Mushi turned around bravely to face the approaching enemies, firing wildly to take down as many of the enemies he could. Trying to fight the growing ache in his chest as he watched Mushi's gradually shrinking form jerk morbidly with every gunshot he received, Sesshoumaru continued running as quickly as his legs would take him. A morbid splat of a bloody, battered body against the stone pavement behind him told him the inevitable had happened. He would not let Mushi die in vain, he swore, before whispering for his comrade to rest in peace. He would not let any of those men who had given their lives die in vain. Their deaths would be honorable and meaningful.

To do so, he would have to stay alive.

He sprinted with renewed determination, but had not taken more than five steps when white-hot, searing pain shot through his side, blinding him for a second. His body stiffened and lurched a few steps forward while he cursed under his breath; the sudden shock had rendered him unable to think for a moment. Drawing a few hungry gulps of cool air into his burning lungs, he tried to regain his composure. The white multitude of stars in front of his eyes was fading rapidly and a quick glance at his side confirmed his suspicions. He had taken a bullet in his side, and the deep crimson soaking through his white shirt and black striped vest told him this might not be easy to recover from.

But still, he had to live. Dying was not an option if he wanted to avenge his friends.

Trying to tell himself that it was merely a gunshot wound, Sesshoumaru fought to run ahead. He was lucky; the bullet did not hit him in the chest, and while it hurt like hell, there was no rush of metallic blood within his mouth, indicating no backflow of blood within his gastrointestinal tract. He would survive this; there was nothing he had not survived in the past. He had been through too many life and death situations ever since he had chosen to walk this path.

The scent of blood and slightly burned flesh in the air was growing and what had been a bustling street filled with night life was now a brightly lit yet desolate sight. There was no one in sight; everyone must have gone into hiding. The men came to a crossroad, and Sesshoumaru knew that the only way out of this fix was to split up into groups to confuse and throw the enemy off their backs, even if it was only temporary.

"Split up!" He roared, no longer caring too much if the non-Japanese speakers understood him or not. On cue, his remaining men sprinted in different directions, ducking to avoid the bullets whizzing past them. Gritting his teeth, he hurriedly made the decision to run down a darkened alley between two rows of shop houses. His feet hit the stone pavement in an erratic, frenzied rhythm while he clutched his side with his right hand to staunch the blood flow and alleviate the burning pain in his raw, bloody flesh. Using the thick fabric of his trench coat to soak up his blood, he cast urgent glances on the ground he had sprinted on to search for spots of crimson. It would not do him any good to leave a bloody trail for his adversaries.

He could hear rapid footsteps from somewhere far behind him, and while he'd hate to admit this, they would catch up with him sooner or later. Hyperventilating with the sudden trauma and stress his body had received, he felt himself grow increasingly lightheaded, and his strides were no longer as fast and decisive as they had been. His limbs were experiencing a numbing sensation from both the blood loss and the hyperventilation, and soon, Sesshoumaru was staggering forward like a crippled man, barely able to support his own weight.

A few more staggering steps forward was all he could manage before he lurched forward limply to lean against a brick wall at the juncture where the alley he was on met the entrance to another. Heaving hard, he gritted his teeth in agony as he mentally prepared himself for certain death, cursing the fact that he was to die in a foreign land alone in a dark, filthy alley from a gunshot from an adversary.

It was then when he heard a sharp feminine gasp, and his head snapped to the side to meet a pair of taupe orbs sparkling with horror and astonishment. The eyes that held his so intently broke the eye contact between them, following along the length of his body to take in the dreadful sight of his grotesquely blood stained garments. He blinked once to clear his blurring vision; the woman in front of him was oddly familiar, but he could no longer think coherently. But when her rouged lips, slightly pearlescent where the few beams of light that flooded in from the main streets caught them, parted in what was to be a shrill scream, he summoned the last remnants of strength within himself to push her against the wall on her back, and raise his left hand to cup it over her mouth.

"Shhh." He hushed, unable to speak a word as he watched those large, expressive eyes widen with terror before her lined and colored eyelids lowered ever so slightly in silent compliance. Her body which had been fighting his grip, relaxed gradually when she seemed to realize this gravely wounded stranger held no intention of hurting her.

It was then when they both heard it; the unmistakable sounds of commands shouted noisily in Chinese down the other alley. While he did not comprehend a word of what they were saying, the woman in his hold seemed to do so, as he could see from the flash of realization across her face. He could vaguely make out the way her eyes had darted to the side before they returned to meet his, trailing down to where his wound was, as if she had grasped the situation.

Sesshoumaru did not know what she was thinking, and his weakening body left him with no choice but to trust this stranger who had so fatefully crossed his path on this autumn night where blood had fallen like rain. Her hands tugged at his arm insistently as if to coax him into releasing his grip on her, and it was when he complied that she gave him a reassuring nod, arranged her hair and her clothes hastily. Then she lifted her chin and walked out slowly in the direction he had come from, poised and relaxed as if she had not met him at all.

Lips parting in a soundless gasp as a fresh wave of raw throbbing ache assaulted his wound, Sesshoumaru collapsed onto the cold brick wall, sliding down slowly into a sitting position with his legs stretched out limply in front of him. His head drooped forward and he gritted his teeth as he fought to regain consciousness, drifting in and out of a sleepy haze.

The woman disappeared around the corner and it wasn't long before he heard a piercing scream from her that jolted him into attention from his injury-induced daze. His ears strained to pick up hints of sounds, but all he could catch were conversations in rapid Chinese. There were thunderous male voices and a clear, sweet female voice, and the rush of urgent footsteps was soon heard again. But unlike earlier when they had been closing in on him like vicious, starved predators, the footsteps against the stone pavement seemed to be fading further and further into the distance.

A few moments passed in silent uneasiness, and he realized he could neither hear the outraged threats from his adversaries nor their footsteps. They were gone, he realized weakly, before the clicking sounds of feminine heels against stone grew louder and louder.

Over the hypnotizing rhythm of the clicking heels, he heard a feminine voice speaking to him urgently. But it was all in Chinese, and he did not understand a single word of what the woman was going on and on about. Her voice…it sounded so warm, yet so far away. A small hand gripped his tightly, squeezing his fingers. That was his final coherent thought before his eyes caught sight of gold embroidery against red satin, and his world went pitch black.

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_To be continued..._


	2. The Awoken Stranger

Standard disclaimers apply.

A/N: Thank you to those who reviewed the first chapter! You guys are amazing, and I am very pleased with how everyone liked the details in the first chapter. It was not easy writing that, but thankfully, it turned out fine.

Don't you agree that Shanghai in the 1930s makes an excellent backdrop for gangster stories? Throw in a Japanese gangster and the Sino-Japanese war, and you get BIG drama.

**~Shanghai~**

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She pressed the damp cloth against the stranger's forehead and wiped his face, moving downwards until she got to his chest, where the feverish heat was the greatest. His fever was under control, and once he had regained consciousness, she would be able to feed him the herbal concoction which she had been painstakingly brewing since the morning.

A thousand questions flashed across her mind as she sat quietly by the bed, watching the handsome stranger whom she had rescued last night sleep soundly. Initially, when she had first seen him in that dark alleyway, she had thought him to be a Caucasian man. The long silver tresses were definitely not a trait of the typical Asian, and neither was the molten gold of his piercing eyes. Yet as he slept soundlessly on her bed, she saw that his features were definitely Asian, and she concluded she had never seen such a strange-looking Chinese man. But then again, 'strange' did not mean he was not good-looking in any way. In fact, he was breathtakingly handsome, to the point of being unbelievably so.

His sleeping visage was cherubic and peaceful; resembling those pictures of angels she had seen in the church in town when she had gone to visit the orphans. He would have looked angelic and pristine if it wasn't for the fact that his body was so…contrasting, for a lack of a better word. Tattoos marred the alabaster skin which might have been almost luminous, symbolizing that this man was no common civilian. His back was covered with a huge, intimidating tattoo of a majestic white dog with its head thrown back in a silent roar. On top of that, as if that huge tattoo was not scary enough, it was framed in a background of vicious-looking swords and bloody plum blossoms. A strange, unknown crest was also inked onto his nape, and it brought a chill down her spine.

She might not know too much about them, but she was certain of this. The man lying on her bed was a member of a triad or secret society not unlike the prominent Green Gang in Shanghai, and the size and designs of his tattoos told her he was no low-ranking sidekick. The doctor had initially hesitated to treat him, until she had promised to pay extra. It did not come as a rude shock; she knew the stigma attached to triad members, and the fear civilians held of them. But then again, he was so gravely injured, and had practically stumbled into her path. She couldn't leave him to die, and had immediately run to call her trusty friend and neighbor Qi Bao (Shippo), a twelve year-old boy who worked in the kitchen at Golden Phoenix Lounge, to help her with the collapsed stranger.

But who exactly was he? Why would the entire gang of armed men chase him with the intention to take his life?

There was no point in thinking too much, she mused, brushing his silvery bangs out of his face. She would get her answers out of him when he came to. As if he had heard her mind, the man began stirring, groaning ever so softly in obvious discomfort. Slowly, his eyes, lined with eyelashes which would make him the envy of many females, cracked open.

"You are finally awake!" She cried out, a bright smile spreading across her face when her eyes met his. Those eyes were a peculiar yet intriguing shade that resembled the shimmering gold of buttercups under sunshine, yet they were so dark at the same time.

As if shielding those eyes from her gaze, his eyelids squeezed shut immediately before cracking open again to get accustomed to the surroundings. A low groan escaped his lips and before she could do anything, he was struggling to sit up in the bed, only to hiss in discomfort when searing agony spread through his bandaged wound.

"Wait, you're not supposed to be moving!" She chided urgently, throwing down the rattan fan which she had been fanning the fire under the pot of herbal medicine with. Running over to the injured man's side, she carefully eased him into a lying position, drawing a thin blanket over him. Looking at him with a slightly reproachful expression, she continued, "The doctor has reminded me countless of times not to allow you to get off the bed lest your wound starts bleeding again."

He merely pinned her with those cold sunshine eyes, revealing no hints of agreement or disagreement.

His gaze was…scary, she concluded as she tried not to waver under the unspoken intimidation from those golden eyes. She had no idea why he was staring at her like that; she had saved his life, but instead of gratitude, he was eerily expressionless. Then his eyes left hers to survey his surroundings cautiously, and she decided to throw her growing apprehension and fear aside for the moment. He was after all, gravely injured, and there was nothing he could do to hurt her. She stood up from the bed and walked to where the brewing pot of medicine was, before squatting down by the earthenware stove to check on the fire.

"This is my room, and I live here alone with the other tenants in this compound, where there are five other rooms. I brought you back home with me with the help of my friend Qi Bao (Shippo) and got a doctor to look at your injuries, and he had managed to remove the bullet from your body and stop the bleeding. No one knows you are here, and I am bound to get into trouble with the landlady if she knew of your presence, so we have to be discreet."

"I am now decocting some herbs for you…the doctor said you have to drink this twice a day for the wound to heal faster and to bring your slight fever down. Are you hungry?" She continued, before looking back at the man lying on her bed. It was then when she realized that he was staring intently at the ceiling, as if he was deaf to her words.

Suppressing a sigh, she continued with her task, wondering just why he was being so cold and distant towards her. She had not managed to catch a wink of sleep since she brought this stranger back, but while it had been very tiring, she knew she could never leave him out there in the alley to fend for himself. Without a doubt, he would have died, considering the extent of his wounds.

He watched the girl intently for a moment, taking in her slender petite frame and her sweet, girlish features. She had large doe eyes which were capable of betraying every single emotion she felt within, framed in a watermelon seed-shaped face. Fresh-faced and dressed in a pale blue Chinese collar sleeveless top and matching pants, she was the epitome of the pretty girl-next-door.

Yet she seemed so familiar, and he couldn't help but think he had seen her somewhere before. Then she lifted her head as if to relieve the aching muscles at her nape, and that particular angle at which her head tilted brought back flashbacks of the previous night. The woody fragrance of cigar smoke, the flashing lights of the stage, the lively music of the band by the side of the stage, and the rich, sweet voice…

Closing his eyes, he allowed his spinning head to think. Then he saw it; red satin with gold embroidery, folded up neatly on a stool in the side of the small room. It was the cheongsam he had caught sight of seconds before losing consciousness. This girl was his savior; he wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for her and she was not just any other girl. He knew her prior to this; she…she was the Shanghai Warbler at Golden Phoenix Lounge.

Last night could have turned out different in so many ways, and he realized just how his life was practically determined by seemingly insignificant events. For one, if he had taken up Zhao's offer, he would have gotten acquainted with this girl by sharing a night of carnal pleasures in his hotel room at uptown Shanghai. Instead, he was lying on her bed in her room with a gunshot wound in his side. Also, if the car had arrived earlier, they wouldn't have been attacked, and his brothers wouldn't have died for nothing. Thinking about Mushi and the way he had valiantly sacrificed himself to allow his fellow brothers to escape brought a twinge of pain to his heart; Sesshoumaru had no idea how he should reveal the tragic news to Mushi's aging father, Jaken.

He had to get out of this place once he could. There were so many things waiting for him to see to, and he had official matters to see to. They had just bought over one of the gambling dens in Shanghai to expand it into a casino, but he was now stranded at this place, rendered immobile by his injuries. Thousand Blessings Casino was still in its fledging stage, and it was as vulnerable as a young animal surrounded by vicious predators waiting to devour it. There were bound to be gangs out there, especially the very prominent Green Gang, which was highly annoyed by the presence of a Japanese gang in their territory. They could bring themselves to do anything; if they could massacre five thousand pro-Communist strikers a few years back in 1927…there was nothing they could not do.

Staying here and allowing his efforts to go to naught was not an option; he had important matters to see to. But he could not do so, not when moving was an excruciatingly painful activity. Every move he made sent a raw stab of pain reverberating within his side, and as if that was not bad enough, his body temperature was definitely above normal levels, which meant he was running a fever. He would have to wait patiently, and once he was alright, he would leave.

Lost in his thoughts, he failed to notice how the girl had quietly sat herself on the edge of the bed on which he was lying. Her hands were holding a basin of water with a cloth draped over the side. The atmosphere was awkward; they did not know each other after all, and they were now sharing such a small space due to a twist of fate.

"Wo de ming zi jiao A-Lee. Ni ne? _(My name is A-Lee. And you are?)_" She asked curiously, placing a damp cloth over his forehead before peering down at him as she waited for him to tell her his name.

Not surprisingly, he merely stared at her. She did not know why he was being so aloof and distant, and while a part of her wanted to be annoyed at him for being so ungrateful, another part argued that he might most probably still be in shock over what had happened the previous night.

Then it hit her.

How quick she had been to jump to conclusions! He might be deaf for all she knew, and to think she had been annoyed with him for not replying her. Leaving his side, she reached out for a piece of paper guiltily before writing the single character [籬] (pronounced 'lee') on it.

With a remorseful frown on her face, she tapped his shoulder gently, catching his attention before pressing her palm lightly against her chest twice and pointing to the Chinese character written on the piece of paper.

His eyes narrowed at the word, and before she could do anything else, his lips had parted and he coughed twice before visibly gulping to moisturize his throat. Then, in a voice slightly raspy from disuse, he uttered the first words he said since regaining consciousness.

"Kagome."

Her eyes widened prettily as she stared at him in confusion; this man could speak, so he was most probably not deaf. But…what on earth was 'Ka-go-me'?

"What?" She asked in Chinese, watching him frown ever so slightly before inclining his head in the direction of the piece of paper.

"Kagome. Kisama no namae. (Kagome. Your name.)" He repeated, watching her face intently as those bright taupe eyes shone with realization.

"You are not Chinese…"

She now finally understood his initial lack of response to her words and questions; it was not because he was _that _aloof, it was because he understood not a single word of what she was saying. While she could not understand a word of what he had said either, she had heard enough of the language at the lounge where she worked at to identify it as Japanese.

"Ni shi ri ben ren? (You are Japanese ?)" She asked curiously and slowly, before realizing that he still wouldn't understand her no matter how slow she pronounced the syllables. Frowning, she tried hard to recall the word for Japan in Japanese. She had heard it a few times, especially when there were Japanese customers at Golden Phoenix Lounge. "Ah! Umm…Nippon? (Umm…Japan?)"

He nodded, and she smiled an exasperated, knowing smile, as if amused by her own silliness in not realizing earlier that he was a foreigner. It was not going to make anything easier for her, especially when they now had a language barrier to deal with. Shaking her head, she realized how he was staring intently at her again. But this time round, he did not look as frustrated or as helpless as before. She smiled at him again, before walking over to her table to pour out a cup of Oolong tea. Propping him up into a comfortable sitting position, she helped him take sips of the tea to soothe his parched throat.

Knowing that hand signs were going to be more effective than words, she pointed at him before giving him a questioning look.

"Sesshoumaru." He replied, successfully eliciting another confused expression from her. This girl was obviously not accustomed to hearing Japanese names, and was probably wondering why the Japanese had such long names which were so difficult to pronounce.

Reaching out for the piece of paper in her hand and taking the pencil which she had hurriedly brought to him, he wrote the kanji characters of his name, [殺生丸].

Her lips parted slightly as she read the characters, realizing that they could communicate by writing in Chinese characters since that was something both languages had in common. Pointing to him, she repeated slowly, "Sesshoumaru." Then she pointed back at herself and asked, "Kagome?"

He nodded once, and she smiled and replied in Chinese. "You can call me 'Kagome' then. It's easier for you."

Of course, he did not understand the words, but he could catch the meaning behind them. She was telling him to call her Kagome, and that was what he would do.

As she busied herself with pouring out another cup of tea for him, Kagome was caught by surprise when she heard the familiar strains of music coming from the man. Her eyes widened in pleasant surprise when he hummed the melody of the song, 'Shanghai Night', which she had performed at the lounge the previous night.

"How do you know this song?" She asked excitedly with sparkling eyes, opening her palms in front of her in a questioning gesture.

He merely inclined his head in her direction.

"You were there at Golden Phoenix?" Kagome smiled, before scribbling the characters for Golden Phoenix Lounge on the scrap of paper. He leaned forward to read the characters, and nodded again.

"I will be going to Golden Phoenix to sing tonight, so I won't be around to take care of you until I get back from work." She continued, writing the time when she started work and the time she ended on the paper, before drawing an arrow pointing towards the words 'Golden Phoenix Lounge'. Then she left the room for awhile, before leading a young boy of no more than fourteen years old back into the room.

"This is my friend Qi Bao. He will be around to help you with anything you need." Kagome said, and Sesshoumaru nodded, understanding that this boy would help her take care of him in her absence. She walked forward to the stoic man sitting up in the bed, and wrote the characters 七宝 onto the paper, before pointing to the intimidated boy who was standing awkwardly at the door.

"Shippo." Sesshoumaru read, and Kagome smiled.

Turning to the teenage boy, she waved him over and said in Chinese, "He will call you 'Shippo', and so please do your best to help him if he needs assistance. Sesshoumaru does not understand Chinese, so you have to be patient with him. He will need your help in changing, going to the bathroom, taking the medicine and so on, but you have to be careful with his wound, alright?"

"But…A-Lee (Kagome), he looks really, really creepy. And he doesn't understand Chinese! How am I going to talk to him?" Shippo whispered worriedly, pulling Kagome to the side. This older girl whom he had always looked up to as an older sister and had practically grown up with was always so kind; the injured man was obviously a shady character, but she was nonetheless willing to save him.

"Qi Bao (Shippo), when you were a mere baby, I helped your mother look after you as well! You were screaming and crying most of the time, and neither did you speak Chinese then. But no one abandoned you, right?" Kagome reasoned, watching guilt flash across the young boy's features. "So it's only right that you take care of Sesshoumaru, who needs our help now. He is not too difficult…I think. Just a little quiet."

"I will do my best." He mumbled, casting an apprehensive look at the stoic gangster sitting expressionless on the bed. The young boy could not help but think how the older girl's statement was nothing but an understatement.

Kagome patted Shippo on his head with a grateful beam. "Thank you. I will see you later at Golden Phoenix when my early evening shift is over."

_

* * *

To be continued…_


	3. Sing a song for me

Standard disclaimers apply.

A/N: Thank you for the kind support of this story! You guys are such sweet darlings. Anyway, this chapter would contain a song, and I would seriously recommend that you go to youtube to check out the song by Taiwanese singer Cai Qing.

The song is 情人的眼淚 (Qin Ren De Yan Lei or Lover's Tears), and while it is one of the Chinese old cinema classics, it was not in existence in the 1930s in reality. This is merely for the story, because it is such a gorgeous, romantic song.

* * *

**~Shanghai~**

_Click, click, click,_ went her heels as they came into contact rhythmically with the patchwork tiled flooring.

The entire courtyard was empty, with the only sounds in the vicinity coming from behind each closed door. Absentmindedly, she wondered if every single door hid secrets like hers did. She was lucky her neighbors, the other tenants, were not snoopy people by nature. That made it easier for her to keep the secret of Sesshoumaru's existence, which was a good thing considering how she might be thrown out should the landlady ever found out about him.

His sudden presence in her otherwise mundane daily routine was a very refreshing change; never had she done something so…_sneaky,_ for the lack of a better word. She had always been the girl who never overstepped her boundaries, and even though she worked as a songstress in a lounge, she had always been cautious in avoiding situations which required her to 'interact' with the occasional enamored male customer.

But now, she suddenly found herself housing an injured man in her room, and an aloof Japanese gangster no less. Tension still ran high between the Japanese and Chinese ever since the Sino-Japanese war of 1894 to 1895 between Qing Dynasty of China and Meiji Era of Japan. The successes of the Japanese army and the loss of the Chinese port of Weihaiwei simply added to the dislike and prejudice against the Japanese. In fact, she had been raised to dislike the Japanese, for on a personal level, she had also lost her grandfather, whom she had never met, in the war.

Her grandfather had been serving on the Dingyuan flagship of the Imperial Beiyang fleet when it was seriously damaged by a Japanese torpedo and cannon fire, and had lost his life at sea. The pain brought about by his death was never forgotten by those who remained in her home, and the idea of all Japanese as being cruel, ruthless and unfeeling was something which her elders had tried to instill in her. Even when she had left her hometown of Guangzhou many years ago to come to Shanghai to make a living as a songstress, her mother had reminded her again and again to be careful of the Japanese men whom she might come across.

Yet she had not only saved a Japanese stranger, but also, allowed him to recuperate in her room. It was against every rule she had abided so dutifully in all twenty-three years of her life, but there was no way she could bring herself to throw him out. After all, he had come to her when he was severely injured, and she had saved his life. It was a form of Fate too, that had brought them together.

Earlier at Golden Phoenix, she had heard the shocking news of the earlier night's events from her colleagues at the lounge. One of her best friends, Shan Hu (Sango) had told her how she had witnessed the bloodcurdling open shooting that took place on the streets, and how apparently word had it that it was the Green Gang which had attacked the members of a Japanese gang which had just bought over a casino.

While a casino might not appear to be much when it came to the dealings of the underground triads, the Japanese gang was apparently perceived to be infringing the territory of the Chinese gang. Furthermore, there were rumors that the casino was also operating an opium den in its dungeon, which led it to be perceived as a threat. Shan Hu had also added how terrifying the sight had been, with bloodied bodies of the Japanese mob members lining the street one by one like a morbid, fallen domino arrangement. Among the bodies was that of prominent Chinese merchant Zhao Kai, who had apparently made deals with the Japanese gang to supply the casino with opium, pipes and lighters.

It was too much of a coincidence, wasn't it? She couldn't help but be reminded of the wounded Japanese man lying on her bed. An involuntary shudder ran down her spine when she thought of the possible consequences of being discovered to be harboring a Japanese gangster. But then again, she had reminded herself that while the man was Japanese, he was not one of those who served in the Imperial Japanese Army, and neither did he serve in the government. He was a gangster, and that meant that he had no political ties or ambitions, unless he was ultranationalist.

It was okay to help him.

Clutching the little porcelain pot which contained rice congee which she had bought from a roadside stall, Kagome gently knocked and pushed the door to her room open. The room was dimly-lit with only one candle, and shadows danced against the orangey wall when she stepped into the small space. It was terrible quiet too, and every passing second seemed to add to her mounting anxiety, and it wasn't long before her mind started to play tricks on her.

The bed was empty, and only ruffled sheets remained. He was nowhere to be seen.

Where was he? Her mind screamed, wondering just what could have happened. Had his adversaries broken in to take him away, or had he left on his own in his weakened state?

"Sesshoumaru?" She called out urgently despite being unaccustomed to pronouncing a Japanese name, closing the door behind her. "Where are you?"

A quiet cough caught her attention, and her eyes followed the direction of the sound to catch sight of him sprawled on the tiled patchwork flooring of her rented room. Running over to grab the candle stand on the table, Kagome hurriedly knelt down by the man's side, assessing his condition with her eyes.

The bandages at where his gunshot wound did not sport flecks of crimson and she bit her lower lip in relief. Thankfully, the wound had not opened up due to his fall, though he certainly looked as if he was hurting badly.

"Are you alright?" She asked concernedly, struggling to help him up into an upright position. He did not know what this woman was talking about, but he nodded nonetheless. The wound was throbbing with renewed pain, and while he hated to be stuck in such a vulnerable state in front of a woman, he knew he had to accept her help if he wanted to recover from his wounds.

She draped his arm over her slender shoulders, gritting her teeth as she painstakingly stood up with his weakened body leaning heavily against hers. He was much heavier than she was, and every tiny step was draining, but she finally managed to help him back to the bed. With Kagome's help, Sesshoumaru sat down and leaned heavily back onto the pillow which she had propped up against the wall behind, before she lifted his legs onto the bed.

A cool, gentle hand placed itself against his feverish cheek, and his head snapped back to catch the blend of anger, worry and fear on her face.

"I am sorry…" She whispered apologetically in Chinese, not caring if he did not understand her. He still looked as aloof as ever, as if it was her fault that he was stuck with her. "I shouldn't have been so complacent as to leave you in Qi Bao's care…he is merely a child…"

He gripped her hand, and she turned to him with questioning eyes. It was then when he shook his head, holding her gaze with his eyes the entire time. He was trying to tell her something, and he simply settled for saying it in Japanese. "Shippo no sei janai. Jibun de heya wo deyou to shita." (It's not Shippo's fault. I tried to leave the room on my own.)

Kagome seemed to understand what he was trying to say, for there was no other reason why he would mention Qi Bao's name in Japanese with that prideful yet very subtle pleading expression. Sure enough, she had been a little mad at the young boy for being so careless with the man she had entrusted him with, but Sesshoumaru seemed to be insisting that it was not the boy's fault. Furthermore, it was hard to focus on that anger when this very handsome male was clutching her hand so firmly within his own. The way he was studying her was bordering on scrutiny, and it was making her self-conscious.

Had he fallen off the bed because he was trying to leave on his own? Kagome couldn't help but wonder, and it was with that perturbing thought that she gently pried her hand out of his grip. Pointing to the door, she gestured a walking motion with her second and third finger, before shaking her head firmly to tell him not to attempt leaving again.

Her intentions were blatant, but he could not agree, not when he would definitely attempt to leave again. Duty called out to him, and it was as if he was a lone wolf, answering the call of his pack from the snowy mountains beyond the deepest forests. He had to get back to work somehow. Sitting here doing nothing while the bodies of his dead comrades were strewn around the local morgues was unacceptable.

So he simply settled for evading her gaze, looking at the core of the flame on the candle in her hand. He had expected her to argue or continue trying to get her point across, but the girl simply allowed his reaction, or the lack thereof, to slide. Her soft hands touched his side gingerly, trailing her fingertips like ghostly whispers over the gauze, before she whispered softly in Chinese again, more to herself than to him.

"It will heal sooner or later."

He was not deaf; the room was deathly quiet except for the sounds of their mingled breathing in the small space. The girl was saying something he could not understand, and the way her head was slightly lowered, coupled with the flickering shadows cast by the candle flame, rendered him unable to see her facial expression. Subtly, he tried to catch sight of her features, wondering if the wistfulness within her voice had been a figment of his imagination. Fever had a strange way of creating illusionary sounds and sights.

Yet when she lifted her head, he found himself wishing he had not attempted to catch glimpses of her. It was his side that had taken a bullet, but why was it that his heart throbbed almost painfully when he came face to face with her? She was merely a woman, his rational and prideful mind hurriedly argued. But he knew the reason behind his reaction to seeing her face directly for the first time in that night.

Yes, she was merely a woman. But she was a very attractive woman.

On top of physical attractiveness, her eyes housed something which made her even more striking to him. Those deep brown orbs reflected kindness, compassion and patience. There were no hints of disgust, loathing or prejudice, despite them being of different nationalities and their respective countries, having so much animosity between them.

She had left the room as an unadorned, sweet-looking girl with her black inky hair tumbling in waves over her shoulders. But every night, Golden Phoenix transformed this girl into a sultry temptress with smoky, lined eyes and a sensual rouged pout. Her midnight hair was fashioned into a tight, curled chignon held firmly by generous amounts of floral oils and hair spray, complete with a red rose framed by black feathers tucked snugly behind her ear. The black netting that came with her elaborate hair accessory shielded her sweet face tantalizingly, adding to the mysterious touch which her obsidian cheongsam clothed her in.

His eyes continued studying her, entranced by the magical spell that seemed to come with her so easily, until a polite cough snapped him out of his cigar smoke-scented reverie.

Evading his eyes quickly, he tossed his head casually to shift the bangs out of his eyes, as if he hadn't been caught staring at her so openly. Language barriers did not mean anything; what had occurred between them was simply the physical appreciation of a beautiful woman by a man. It was then when he felt her slender fingers brush his bangs to the side, taking care of the stubborn strands which had fallen back to irritate his eyes. It was as if she was inviting him to stare intently at her to his heart's content, aiding him by brushing the obstacles out of his vision.

Rouge lips pressed themselves firmly together, before curving upwards in a lukewarm smile. She looked so different, and acted so differently too, when she was the Shanghai Warbler. Gone with the plain appearance in the day was her girlish enthusiasm and bright encouraging smiles, and what came with the obsidian silk cheongsam, lustrous pearl necklace and sultry makeup in the night were womanly charms he had never expected her to possess.

Slowly, she drew her hand away from his cheek, standing up from the small bed with a soft creak before walking over to the wooden table where the porcelain pot had been placed. He watched her walk away from him, noting the way the cheongsam outlined her curves so distinctly, accentuating every soft sway of her hips. Lifting the lid off the pot, she reached for a clean bowl and a spoon before spooning the piping hot rice congee into the bowl. It was half-full when she stopped to replace the lid on the small pot, before walking back to his side.

Lowering his eyes to the bowl held carefully in her hand, he wondered what was to come next. There was always the option of reaching out to take the bowl from her to feed himself, but then again, there was always the other option of waiting. He opted for the latter, not knowing that she was facing the same dilemma. As if stalling for time, her slender hand pushed the sheets aside to make sufficient space to place the bowl down, before reaching out for his hand again.

Instead of the chilly touch that had lingered within her fingertips earlier, he felt warmth from where the heated bowl had come into contact with the pads of her fingers. His palm opened as she gently pried his fingers backwards, before a tapered feminine finger drew a Chinese character on his palm.

Stroke by stroke, the warm tip of her finger moved over his skin to form the word 「粥」, meaning 'rice congee' in both Japanese and Chinese. Just like in Japanese culture, rice congee was obviously popular as food for the sick in Chinese culture. He nodded in acknowledgment, still not speaking a word lest she decided that words were more effective than the writing method they had devised. Was she writing on his palm because the room was too dimly-lit for her to write on paper and for him to read, or was it because she too, like him, was drawn to the idea of physical contact?

He would have continued thinking, if it wasn't for the spoonful of congee lifted to rest gently at his lower lip. Eyes of sunshine gold widened to stare into reassuring taupe, before obediently parting his lips to swallow the entire spoonful. She drew the spoon back when he was done, and scraped gently at the surface of the congee in a circular motion along the curve of the bowl with a gentle clink. Lifting the filled spoon to her lips, she blew gently on its watery contents, before moving it to his lips again.

His lips parted to swallow the spoonful of congee, but as she was drawing the spoon back, Kagome accidentally stained the side of Sesshoumaru's mouth with the drops of congee clinging on the porcelain. Instinctively, his hand reached up to wipe the stain off, only to feel her hand pressing down on his with a gentle pressure. He complied, and nodded his appreciation when she pulled her handkerchief out from her pocket to dab gently at the edges of his lips.

Spoonful by spoonful she fed him patiently, and spoonful by spoonful he ate with silent gratitude and growing ease. The congee settled in his stomach like soothing warmth, and it was not too long before he had finished it all.

Glad to see that his appetite was not affected by his injury and fever, Kagome placed the bowl on the table before helping him settle comfortably into a lying position for him to rest. Once again, intentions were clear, and words were not needed. It was clear to the injured man that his caretaker wanted him to obtain the sleep he needed, but he had other ideas in mind. There was something else he wanted before he would allow himself to drift into slumber.

It was when he felt her meager weight lift off the small bed did he reach out with his hand to grab her by the wrist, after which there was a momentary pause. A questioning hum escaped her, and he deftly urged her palm open to write the word 「唱」, which was the character for 'sing'. Kagome's brows knitted gently in a disbelieving frown, and he wrote the character again to dispel her suspicions of having interpreted the character wrongly.

"Chang? Ni yao wo chang ge? (Sing? You want me to sing?)" She whispered softly, and felt his fingers loop around hers gently in a loose hold before the handsome Japanese man nodded in the affirmative.

She released a short breath of amusement and nodded in agreement, before sitting herself at the edge of the bed again. He already knew the lively Night Shanghai song which she had performed at Golden Phoenix lounge on the night of the brutal shooting, so she should sing something slow and soothing for him before he allowed sleep to claim him.

Swallowing, she inhaled deeply to start the first few notes of the melancholic yet romantic song, _'Lover's Tears'_, which she was going to sing. It wasn't as if he could understand a word of the words she was going to sing, but it was a blessing actually; she did not really want him to understand the lyrics. It would simply have made the atmosphere more awkward.

"_Why do I shed tears over you? Don't you understand it is for love?"_ She turned to look at him, and he simply regarded her expressionlessly as his left hand still held hers gently within its grasp. _"It's only the tears of the one I love that is precious. For every tear is love; it's love."_

It was not her first time singing this song; in fact, she had just sung it earlier at Golden Phoenix lounge to an audience of at least fifty occupied tables. Yet it felt nothing like this time, though performing live on a stage was supposed to be overwhelming for the performer. This simple performance for this one man lying on the bed, watching her intently as note after note left her heavily rouged lips, was so much more overwhelming and intense.

"_The good springtime is here, and spring flowers are in full bloom. How could you bear to say goodbye?"_ She continued emotionally, and felt his fingers tighten around hers. _"I wait and pine for a reunion in the depth of my chambers. Please don't forget my love which is as deep as the ocean."_

Sesshoumaru silently listened to her hauntingly beautiful voice, and realized what Zhao had commented about her back at Golden Phoenix Lounge was indeed true. The title of Shanghai Warbler was something this girl absolutely deserved; never had he heard someone sing like that. She did not sing the song; she practically embodied the song as she continued crooning with a powerful blend of wistfulness and what appeared to be a deep longing portrayed by only those who knew love. She could really draw his soul with her enchanting voice, and he steeled himself, hoping this woman would never steal his mind and heart along with the soul.

But then again, he had lost his soul since a long, long time ago. He had no soul, no heart, no mind ever since he chose the path he walked.

From his lying position, he gazed into her eyes fixedly as she sang the final verse to the song which had now left its imprint on his memories. _"Why do I shed tears over you? Don't you understand it is for love?"_

"_If not for the fact that the one I love so much wants to leave me, my tears will not fall…they will not fall…" _She sang, allowing the final notes of the melancholic melody to reverberate gently in the air around them before dissipating into nothingness like tendrils of smoke.

Yet the spell lingered in the atmosphere, and she nodded bashfully and politely with the end of the song. Clapping would not be an adequate expression of his appreciation and awe, and stoic as he always had been, so he settled for a simple nod to convey his heartfelt opinions of her little performance. Then, as if both knew that this was something that was never meant to be from the very beginning, Kagome pulled her hand out of his grasp and stood up, walking away from the bed to pick the bowl and porcelain pot up before exiting the room without a backward glance.

Her heart was pounding so badly; she could not feel the chill of the unfriendly autumn night as she stepped out into the open courtyard.

All she knew was how she should never, ever do that again, or the repercussions might turn out to be more than she could ever bear.

_

* * *

To be continued…_


	4. Sayonara

Standard disclaimers apply.

A/N: Thank you to all of you lovely dears who left a review for the last chapter, and here's the next one! There's a lot, a lot more to this story, and I am trying out a new way of writing for this story. I didn't write Shanghai chapter by chapter like the other stories of mine, but instead, wrote down whichever scene came up in my mind and pieced everything together. My draft is at 72 pages on Microsoft Word, but the story is at bits and pieces, so bear with me while I get it all sorted out nicely.

**~Shanghai~**

* * *

The clink of porcelain spoons against bowls were the only sounds in the small space as Sesshoumaru and Kagome ate their breakfast in silence.

It had been four weeks since the fateful night when she crossed his path in that remote alley, and dragged his bleeding body back home with her. The doctor had done a rather good job of stitching Sesshoumaru up, and coupled with Kagome's meticulous care, he was almost fully healed.

Four weeks was a pretty long time for two strangers to get to know each other, but Kagome could not say or expect the same when it came to Sesshoumaru. This man was a living enigma - distant, reserved and cold. She had accounted it to the language barrier between them, but it soon failed to justify Sesshoumaru's aloofness. He was just not a people's person. He barely spoke unless absolutely necessary and no matter how she tried to initiate conversation, he would not respond with anything more than monosyllabic replies. The only thing he did was teach her a few Japanese phrases each day, which she responded to by teaching him the Chinese equivalent.

It was nice, of course. Kagome had always been an inquisitive girl, and she enjoyed interacting with the foreigners whom she got to meet at work. The Indian merchants, selling their impossibly wide variety of spices and incenses, were easily the friendliest and most interesting people to get along with. The Caucasian men, with their intense colored eyes, sharp, handsome features and curiously colored hair, were always gentlemanly and refined. In fact, the live band at Golden Phoenix had White Russian and Filipino members, with the former being in China after escaping the October Revolution and the latter seeking a better standard of living. Kagome got along fantastically with all of them.

Yet Sesshoumaru was so different. She'd hate to jump to conclusions, but was it really true that all Japanese were distant and cruel?

All she wanted was to know him better as a person.

Was that too much to ask for? Kagome thought almost dejectedly as she watched him take a hearty bite of the dough fritter held between his thumb and index finger. The only time he had revealed a hint of tenderness was when he had asked her to sing for him, and sadly, that was the first and only time.

"Why are you here in Shanghai?" She finally asked, gesturing with her hands to put the point across.

He did not answer her, but instead, appeared to be extremely preoccupied with the meal of fried dough fritters and plain rice congee. She watched him eat quietly out of the corner of her eye, and decided not to pursue further. After all, if he did not have the intention to tell her anything, there was no point in pushing for an answer.

Gradually, under Kagome's meticulous care, he recovered. He had lost count of the days though – was it three weeks, or four? All he knew that what had once been a gaping, bleeding wound in his side had scabbed over, and he was now able to get up and about without assistance. It made her happy to see him well on the road to recovery, but at the same time, there was the undeniable feeling of loneliness. The fact that he was well again meant he would leave as if he had never come into her life.

Yet he had grown so accustomed to having her around, as she had grown used to having him around in her life. Of course, there were the inconveniences expected from housing a stranger who had suddenly come into her life, such as an increased expenditure and small issues like insufficient room for sleeping, but there were the nice, simple moments as well.

For one, there was someone waiting for her to get home every day, instead of having to walk into a lonely, silent space. Having left her hometown of Guangzhou eleven years ago at the age of twelve to come to Shanghai to sing, she had missed the liveliness of her extended family and the simple luxuries of eating together at a large table. The only kin she had in Shanghai was her aunt, Feng (Kaede), who lived a few streets away. Kagome knew she should not expect anything out of this, but she had grown accustomed to Sesshoumaru's stoic yet reassuring presence in her life over the span of four weeks.

It was nice to come home to a room which had been cleaned up.

It was nice to be able to talk to someone after a long day at work, albeit not receiving replies and being lost in translation at times.

It was also nice to teach each other simple phrases in their respective languages, while attempting to include those phrases in conversation as they pored over the Chinese-Japanese dictionary she obtained from a flea market sale.

She had not seen it coming, but he had his own way of surprising her in his cold, detached manner. There was once when she had to work the last shift at the lounge, singing till the wee hours of the morning. But when she had stepped out from the back exit of Golden Phoenix Lounge, she found a familiar figure leaning against the cold brick wall where she had first met him. He had not said a word, and neither had she. They had walked home together, and she realized, he had deliberately waited for her so as to ensure her safety by walking her home. It was most probably a display of gratitude on his part, but it was good enough for her.

He shouldn't have been nice to her, Kagome mused as she stood up at the table, gathering the used plates and cups into a small pile. Tiny acts of kindness from him spoiled her; they made her expect more than she ever should. A subtle sideward glance at his bare back gave her the reality check she needed; the roaring white canine staring back at her seemed to be warning her to keep away from this man. Insisting on being with Sesshoumaru would gain her nothing. She would only end up being badly hurt by those bloodied swords that surrounded the menacing dog.

As she held the pile of empty plates and bowls up to bring them to the communal kitchen for washing, Kagome heard him call out to her in a slightly hesitant voice.

"Kagome," He began, addressing her by her Japanese name, before saying slowly in Chinese. "Jin tian…chu qu? (Today…go out?)"

Her eyes had widened at hearing his words, unwilling to believe that he would suggest they spent the day together. After all, it was her day off from work at Golden Phoenix, and she had initially been wondering how she should spend the entire day.

"Ii yo. (Sure.)" She replied him in Japanese with a stunning smile, and he couldn't help the involuntary upturn of his lips as she burst out into giggles. It was rather amusing how the Japanese man was trying to converse with her in Chinese while the Chinese girl replied in Japanese.

His eyes met hers in that instant. A few seconds slipped by, laughter died, and they stared into each other's eyes. There was something different about his eyes, she noted inwardly, but before Kagome could identify what it was, Sesshoumaru had looked away.

* * *

"My goodness, did you see that?"

Kagome clapped and laughed along with the other audience when the male character on the black and white screen fell into a pond, before emerging from the water looking like a drowned rat. There were no conversations in the movie they were watching at the open-air cinema, and every detail of the plot was simply depicted through exaggerated actions and facial expressions.

In a strange way, it reminded him of the two of them. Unable to communicate properly due to the language barrier between them, they had been interacting with each other using simple phrases and sign language. It might sound like an absolute disaster, but ironically, they had always managed to establish a certain level of mutual understanding. Just like the silent movie on the large screen, they had always managed to get the point across without using words.

She continued laughing, before the laughter died into quiet releases of breath when she realized he was not as amused as she was. Unfolding the handkerchief she held within her hands, Kagome tapped Sesshoumaru gently on the hand and offered him a sugared peanut. He shook his head and turned back to look at the screen, face still as expressionless as ever. Was the movie not to his liking, she wondered to herself.

Earlier in the day, Sesshoumaru had been almost fun to be around. They had tried street food like candied haw and steamed meat buns, watched street acrobatic performances and martial arts demonstrations as they strolled along Nanking Road, arguably the busiest shopping street in Shanghai. Kagome had deliberately dolled herself up, wearing a light pink satin cheongsam with dandelion prints, and had tried on countless of hair accessories by the roadside stalls with Sesshoumaru looking on in his usual seriousness as he gave his opinions with either a nod or a shake of his head.

Kagome had been under the impression that Sesshoumaru was simply patronizing her as they visited stall after stall, until he did something out of the blue which surprised her greatly. Due to the fact that Kagome was physically attractive and had a bit of a reputation as a performer at an entertainment establishment, it was inevitable that there were a rather substantial number of men who were interested in getting acquainted with her. She did not appreciate the attention too much, but nonetheless had to put up with the openly appreciative looks, perverse leers and even the occasional request for her to go to dinner with them.

This was the downside to being beautiful, she had concluded since long ago. That was why Kagome had not given it much thought when a certain man approached her as she left Sesshoumaru's side to buy two bottles of the highly popular carbonated drinks imported from the West. As she dug for coins from her beaded purse to pay for the sparkling orange soda, a hand swiftly beat hers to paying, before two glass bottles were held up right in front of her face.

"My lovely Shanghai Warbler…no lady should be allowed to pay for her own drink." The mystery man lowered the glass bottles, and Kagome suppressed a sigh when she saw that it was a young man who went by the name Gang Ya (Kouga), who was also the son of a very prominent textile and apparel merchant in town. She had met him two years ago when the wardrobe managers at Golden Phoenix had brought her to his family's shop for her measurements to be taken for her new stage costumes.

It had been 'love' at first sight for the young man, who had suddenly acquired the very impressive ability of appearing within five meters radius of Kagome whenever she went to Nanking Street to do some shopping. Kouga was a pretty decent guy, really, with boyish good looks, mischievous eyes, masculine brows and a rather attractive physique. It was just a shame that Kagome felt nothing for him romantically, and had unfortunately grown a little tired of his undying enthusiasm. As if things were not bad enough, the handsome young heir to the textile business was the love interest of her close friend Chang Pu (Ayame), making it as awkward as it could get for poor Kagome.

"Ni hao, Gang Shao Ye…(Good day, Young Master Gang)" She greeted with a forced smile, before reaching out to take the drinks from him, only to close her fingers around air when he smoothly lifted the bottles out of her grasp.

"Can we have dinner together at Fortune Jade restaurant tonight?" The handsome young man asked smoothly, before winking cheekily. "By the way, I love the soft waves in your hair. The new Western style suits you very well."

Huffing almost inaudibly, Kagome unclasped her purse to pick a few coins out, holding them out in front of her on an open palm. "Please accept the money then."

"Oh no, no…don't stand on ceremony with me, dear A-Lee. It's merely a few coins!" He shook his head dismissively, before taking a long sip from one of the bottles, much to Kagome's annoyance. "Now, why don't you take a sip? It's more romantic this way."

The other bottle in Kouga's hand was brought nearer to Kagome's lips, but before she could come up with a proper reaction, the bottle had been promptly whisked out of the young man's hand.

"Se-" Kagome started in surprise, before holding her tongue just in time to prevent saying his name out loud.

"Who is this guy, A-Lee?" Kouga asked, narrowing his eyes in annoyance at Sesshoumaru as the latter stood protectively by his beloved songstress' side. "You have some nerve, trying to steal the drink which I've bought for my woman. No one around here dares to offend me."

The young woman tried to hide the amusement on her face before looping her arm around Sesshoumaru's, before tiptoeing to draw a sip from the bottle the Japanese man was holding. Kouga's face was a priceless picture of astonishment, and she had to fight the upturn of her lips. Sesshoumaru's face was simply as stoic as always, unreadable like the mystery he was.

"You mean this guy? He is someone I'd prefer sharing a drink with." She smiled playfully at Kouga, before turning around to walk away with Sesshoumaru by her side. Kouga would most probably bombard her with questions the next time he saw her, but this was nonetheless good enough for a little payback for all the times he had cornered her with his _'You are my woman'_ claims.

But that was not the only reason behind the smile on her lips; she was smiling partly because she had not expected Sesshoumaru to do something like that for her. While it had most probably been nothing but a convenient helpful act on his part, Kagome was nonetheless secretly pleased that he had stood up for her somehow and came to her defense when he thought she was in trouble.

They had had a good time, she concluded to herself. Kagome sincerely hoped Sesshoumaru felt the same way, though he seemed to grow more and more gloomy with every hour that slipped by.

The movie ended, and it was a cue for them to head home. After all, night had crept into the skies above, and stars were already shining down upon them with their glittering smiles. Taking the path that would lead them back, Kagome was surprised when Sesshoumaru expressed his wish to sit down by the grassy banks of Huangpu River. It had never occurred to her that he was a man who appreciated simplicity like this, but she complied nonetheless. After all, it was not often that she heard his request anything of her.

The autumnal breeze whipped her thick, glossy raven tresses back, and she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. Silence reigned between them as they sat side by side on the grassy bank, but neither bothered to disrupt it, for it was comfortable after all. There was an unspoken peace which Kagome appreciated greatly.

She heard the rustle of the tall grass surrounding them, and saw how Sesshoumaru had plucked two long blades of grass from the side. Lining the green strips against each other, his fingers worked deftly and confidently to weave a pattern out of the grass. Kagome watched in awe as a form began to take shape under his talented fingers, and it wasn't long before awe faded to be replaced by elation. In place of the two long strips of wild grass was a woven grasshopper, looking as lively and realistic as could be.

"For you."

He offered it to her, and she smiled as if surprised, asking, "Is it okay if I take it?"

Nodding, he placed the grasshopper into her palm, noting the way she had blushed prettily.

"Konaida no iroiro…arigatou. kansha shiteru. (Thank you…for everything that had happened recently. I appreciate it.)" His voice was quiet, and she simply sat by his side, hearing but not listening.

She did not understand a word of what he was saying, and instead, settled for a teasing poke on his arm. "Ni shuo de hua, wo ji ju ye ting bu dong. (I dont understand a word of what you're saying)"

A contented smile lingered on her lips as her fingers fiddled with the grasshopper he had skillfully woven out of two long blades of grass for her. Kagome was so easily contented, he noted, watching her out of the corner of his eye.

The next moment, his hand was covering hers, and the woven grasshopper fell onto her lap with a gentle rustle. Eyes widened in surprise upon seeing his hand on hers, Kagome looked up questioningly to seek answers within golden pools. Yet there were none, as always.

Looking straight at her, he said almost inaudibly in Japanese, thankful for the fact that she could not comprehend a single word.

"Issho mo wakattekurenai kamoshirenai kedo, boku wa ikanakya. (Even if you might never understand where I am coming from, I have to leave.)" He said softly as she continued smiling sweetly at him, not knowing that every second of her lingering smile was adding to the heavy guilt in his chest. Kagome extended her hand in invitation for him to write kanji on her palm, but he shook his head. "Sayonara. (Goodbye.)"

"Sayonara?" Kagome repeated, and for a moment, he thought she understood what he meant by that word. But a second ticked by with her still peering at him in mild confusion, leading him to the conclusion that she did not understand him.

Nodding once, Sesshoumaru repeated himself. "Sayonara."

She gave him a heartfelt smile and nodded firmly. After all, his facial expression was solemn and his voice was sincere. She still did not understand what he said though.

Yet he hoped she did. He tried to fool himself into believing that the sincere smile and nod indicated her understanding of his inevitable departure.

But as if she wanted to get back at him for saying so much in a language which she did not comprehend, Kagome launched into a string of rapid Chinese as she shifted closer to him.

Peering at him curiously, her eyes narrowed and those small yet full lips pouted endearingly.

"Ni zhi dao ma? You shi wo hui xiang, ni dao di shi shui? (Do you know? Sometimes I think to myself, just who are you?)" She mused, taking in his curious yet devastatingly handsome features. "Ni you ru yi ge mi tuan…zen me jie ye jie bu kai. (You are a mystery which I can never seem to be able to solve.)"

"You don't understand me, do you?" She continued in Chinese, knowing his piercing eyes were studying her intently as they always had been. Suppressing a sigh which would have otherwise aroused his curiosity for sure, Kagome smiled wistfully, "It is for the better that you do not understand. Sometimes it's not good to know too much, and…I am very happy with how things are for now. It's good enough for me; I don't ask for too much. The present situation is enough for me."

Neither knew how they should have simply adhered to communicating without words, just like how the black and white movie had been. But instead, they had chosen to communicate using words, pushing themselves onto a path which would lead to nowhere.

* * *

Stirring on the makeshift bed consisted of a thin mattress and a few straw mats, Kagome's eyes cracked open to take in the thin beams of sunrays filtering into her room through the gaps in the patched cloths covering the hole she had for a window. Stirring slightly, she arched her back in a comfortable stretch to dispel lingering sleepiness. A contented smile spread across her face when she felt the tautness within her back muscles dissipate, and she exhaled contentedly.

The room was very quiet as always, probably because Sesshoumaru was still fast asleep. That was a rare occurrence; he was always up earlier than her everyday at the same time, and he seemed to possess a very accurate biological clock within him.

Groaning softly, Kagome pulled herself up into a sitting position on the straw mattress before turning to greet Sesshoumaru.

The bed was empty, and it was neatly made.

Her first instinct was to fall back onto her mattress, laze around a bit, and wonder where he could have gone. He must have gone to the bathroom, she thought, snuggling in the warmth of her sheets.

She waited, drifting in and out of sleep as she waited for him to return.

Eventually, she slipped back into a deep, dreamless slumber.

Then she woke up again, not knowing how much time had gone by. Drowsily, she groaned his name, feeling the need to berate him for not waking her up earlier.

"Sesshoumaru…"

But there was no reply. The room remained as silent as ever, and she suddenly froze, as if suddenly noticing the emptiness and loneliness that now resided within the same space.

Her heart sank within the confines of her chest, dispelling all signs of sleepiness as her mind entertained the possibility of her greatest worry. It was the dreadful feeling of knowing something had gone terribly wrong, yet unwilling to believe the undeniable truth. Frantic with worry and self-denial, Kagome clambered into a standing position before running out to the courtyard. Standing in the middle of the vast space, her eyes scanned her surroundings, looking for signs and glimpses of a silvery head.

The autumn winds were growing colder and colder, and so was her heart. There were no signs of him no matter how hard she looked around the compound; the kitchen was empty except for a middle-aged woman, and the men's bathroom was not occupied. He was nowhere to be found.

Not caring if anyone else heard her, Kagome called out to silence. "Sesshoumaru!"

There was no reply. As if mocking her, fallen leaves rustled against the ground as the autumn winds chased them playfully.

For a few minutes, she stood alone in the vast courtyard, listening to the wind, hoping to catch whispers within. But alas, there were none. The initial denial and shock dissipated to be replaced by a hint of rationality which she desperately clung onto. He might have gone out to buy something, she reasoned. He'd be coming back; he had to be coming back.

She contemplated going out to look for him on the main street, but then again, it would not do for him to come back to an empty room. Stubbornly, she told herself to wait for him, even though a suppressed voice within her mind was screaming for her to acknowledge the truth that he was never coming back.

Legs trembling from cold and dread, Kagome managed to make her way back to her room. Its emptiness was exceptionally pronounced, and she could not help but wonder since when her humble room had become so spacious and forlorn. Yet it felt so suffocating at the same time, and she found herself fighting to draw in steady breaths.

Walking to his, no…her bed, she sat herself down on it. It had been so long since she had slept on this bed, and she had almost forgotten the feeling of the stitched peony embroidery of the sheets against her skin. A hand ran along the soft sheets, and that was when she saw it.

A simple note, placed beside the pillow.

She knew she would read it sooner or later, but she allowed her escapist tendencies to get better of her. Turning away, she gazed into nothingness, terrified of seeing what the note would say. But what was the point? What was the point of fearing something one already knew would happen?

Shaky fingers reached out for the note, closing around the small piece of paper before bringing it to her chest level. Scribbled on the paper were the Chinese characters 「再見」and「珍重」…

'_Goodbye'_…and _'take care of yourself'_…?

Is that all you have to say, Sesshoumaru? She asked within her heart, sitting on the edge of the bed motionlessly. It was probably nothing more than naivety on her part, but she'd think he'd have more to say to her considering what they had gone through together. Warm tears fell onto the piece of paper, blurring the words he had written so elegantly.

She should have known it was too good to be true; she should have known from the very beginning. Yet she was deliberately naïve, if such a term existed.

But even though her mind was telling her that it was nothing to feel upset over; she had anticipated this since a long time ago, her heart was still broken.

All she could think of was his face yesterday as he leaned over the bed to wish her good night and brush his fingers against her cheek, and how that would never ever happen again because he had left. He was really gone, and would never be coming back again.

Inconsolably, she sobbed into her pillow, only to sob harder when all she could smell on the fabric was him. Didn't he know doing this would hurt her? Why couldn't he have bid her goodbye properly, instead of leaving as if he had never come into her life? How could he do this to her after fooling her into letting her guard down?

Just like every day for the past four weeks, he had taught her a new word.

He taught her _'sayonara'_, she recalled with a fresh wave of tears assaulting her smarting eyes.

So it meant goodbye.

_

* * *

To be continued…_


	5. Unforgettable

Standard disclaimers apply.

A/N: Thank you for the awesome-possum reviews! It will be some time before Sesshoumaru and Kagome finally meet again, but in the mean time, you'll continue to see more of them and understand the characters.

Do keep supporting the story! It will get more and more angsty and dark though, which is a change from my usual styles.

I did a little crossover here, borrowing Rurouni Kenshin/Samurai X's Saitou Hajime to feature in this story! Don't we all love the evil wolf?

**~Shanghai~**

* * *

It was the third day since he had left.

Kagome had never felt more depressed and hollow as she had felt now, as she stood on stage surrounded by nothing but the empty hall of the lounge where she worked. It was merely late afternoon, and the performers were doing a quick rehearsal for the program lined up for the night. The only people present were the members of the live band and a few other colleagues from Golden Phoenix, and everyone was eager to hear Kagome sing.

Old Mrs. Wang, the wife of the owner of Golden Phoenix Lounge, had arranged for Kagome to sing a new ballad that night titled _'Everlasting Love'_ (Bu Liao Qing), believing that Kagome's gifted vocals could bring the emotions and the nuances in the song out.

The lights on stage were dimmed during rehearsal periods to cut down on the energy usage, unlike the usual glamorous spotlights that lit the entire stage and floor up throughout the night. Usually, Kagome thought the dimmed lights to be comfortable for her eyes, but today, they just felt exceptionally melancholic. The floor was shrouded in darkness, and she silently thought if there was a possibility that he might be sitting down there at one of the tables, watching her from the shadows.

The first notes of the hauntingly sorrowful yet romantic song echoed throughout the lounge, and she drew a quivering breath to prepare herself. Ironically, the inhaled breath of air did nothing to fill her lungs up; they only served to make her tremble more and feel more forlorn. Closing her eyes, she reminded herself of her surroundings and her purpose in standing on the stage. She was working; she was making a living.

Still, the blue notes of jazz and Western scale interwoven with Chinese folk tunes never seemed more forlorn.

"_Can't forget, can't forget…"_ She sang, parting her lips to allow the melody and words to weave themselves in a melodious, sorrowful blend. _"I can't forget your mistakes, yet I can't forget your kindness…I can't forget the walks we had in the rain, and neither can I forget the embrace we shared in the wind."_

The first verse was delivered smoothly with just the slightest tremble within her voice, though no one seemed to have noticed it. Yet her traitorous mind, hazy with the longing she felt for him, chose to play flashbacks of their time together.

"_Can't forget, can't forget…I can't forget your tears, and your smiles…" _Kagome continued, though the sour ache rising at the back of her nose was getting harder and harder to ignore. She remembered the way he had weaved a grasshopper for her, and the way he had nodded in approval when she tried a hair accessory on by the roadside stall. Did all the times spent together mean nothing to him?

There were so many things she wanted to do with him; she wanted to see the sunset at Huangpu river with him, teach him more Chinese, learn more Japanese from him, make her signature osmanthus cakes for him…

But now, she would never have the chance to do so.

Her lips quivered when she remembered the words he had written on the piece of paper. _"I can't forget the forlornness of the night, and neither can I forget the worries that came with the blooming of the flowers. The lonely long alleyway is now clearly illuminated by the slanted beams of moonlight…"_

In her mind, she saw the night she sang to him by his bedside, and the sight of him waiting for her in the alley when she stepped out from Golden Phoenix's backdoor.

"_The cold and lonely swing is now swaying gently whenever the wind comes-"_

With a sharp rise in pitch, Kagome's voice faltered then and she stepped back abruptly from the microphone, covering her face with both hands to prevent the embarrassing sobs from being amplified by the sound system. The black lace fan which she had been holding in her hands fell to the wooden flooring with a dull thud. Standing on trembling legs, her willowy frame shook with incontrollable sobs that left tears dripping down from underneath her palms.

"What's wrong, A-Lee? Are you alright?" Her friends Shan Hu (Sango) and Chang Pu (Ayame) ran up the stage to steady her, asking questions concernedly. The girls were beyond taken aback; they had never seen bubbly, optimistic Kagome in this state, and it was scaring them rather badly. Her sobs had grown in volume, and she allowed herself to be guided off the stage by her friends, while her boss' wife yelled at the rest to focus on their own rehearsal instead of being nosy. The music playing in the background had died along with her abrupt pause.

Knowing that her uncharacteristic outburst was most probably going to scare everyone and leave them wondering, Kagome tried valiantly to stop the tears that were flowing down her cheeks. Sniffling hard while dabbing at every fresh wave of tears with a handkerchief Sango had passed to her, she found her attempts to cease crying futile.

It was no use; she missed him. She missed his presence in her life, and she was mad at herself for being so careless as to let him slip through her fingers.

She truly thought that at the very least, they were friends.

It had never occurred to her that he would leave without a single word. In her anxiety, she had entertained ideas of searching for him, but what was the point, really? If he really had the intention to hide from her, there was nothing she could do even if she managed to find her.

There was no meaning in clinging on to someone who did not have the intention of staying.

"Are you alright?" Sango asked worriedly, stroking her hair gently as she would do to a frightened child after they had helped her into a chair backstage. Still trying to put up a fight against those traitorous tears of hers, Kagome managed a nod, even though she was far from being alright.

What was the point of saying anything or telling them the truth? It wasn't as if they were able to do anything about it, she concluded. Her friends were very lovely people, which meant they would merely shower her with more sympathy and pitiful gazes. That was something she neither wanted nor needed.

Ayame reached out for Kagome's tear-stained hands and gave them a firm squeeze. "Did someone bully you, A-Lee? I'll personally hunt them down and teach them a lesson."

Sango cast the redhead an amused, reproachful look, but was quick to agree. "Yes, I'll show them what it means to mess with the girls of Golden Phoenix! You know how good Ayame and I are at acrobatics, and we actually deliver pretty nasty punches and kicks as well!"

That elicited a teary chuckle from the weeping girl, and everyone's faces broke into relieved smiles upon seeing how Kagome was more or less calmer. She coughed twice shakily, before reaching out for the cup of water which had been brought to her by one of her colleagues.

Taking a small sip, she breathed in deeply to calm her agitated mind down, willing herself to focus on thoughts which did not involve a certain silver-haired gangster who had abruptly come into her life and left just as abruptly.

"Don't cry anymore, A-Lee…" Sango comforted, patting her gently on the head. "You can talk to us after you've calmed down. There's no problem on earth that cannot be solved."

Sango was right; she should stop crying. Tears did not offer a hint of comfort. All they did was remind her of her naivety, and her tendency to assume more to things that were simply never meant to be.

* * *

He stood at the window, looking out at the busy streets of Shanghai below as the locals went about their daily affairs. There were people from all walks of life, from the street vendors selling local food, imported carbonated drinks, crafts, clothing, to the rickshaw riders pulling their rickshaws along the street, to the upper class ladies walking in and out of boutiques with their servants and the businessmen coming out from expensive restaurants with their business partners.

Everyone had a place to go to and something to do in life, no matter how low or high they stood on the social ladder.

His eyes widened when he saw a feminine frame standing in front of the stall selling bottled carbonated drinks. The familiar black wavy hair, slender stature and the way the girl was fumbling with her beaded purse…he couldn't tear his eyes away, and the grip he had on his window ledge involuntarily tightened. The girl paid for her orange-flavored soda, and with a polite nod, turned from the stall. Sesshoumaru did not know what he was afraid of, or why a mere girl could have so much influence over him, but he hurriedly stepped back from the window, hiding himself among the shadows cast by the curtains.

Cautiously, he leaned forward to catch a glimpse of the female, before releasing the bit of breath he had been holding back. Closing his eyes, he counted silently to three before opening them again.

It was not her.

As the stranger stepped onto a rickshaw which pulled away in the direction she had come from, he noticed the familiar candied haw stand by the side of the road and the jolly old man selling the sticks of delightfully sweet treat. A few feet down the street was a stall selling Sze Chuan spicy and sour noodles; a signature dish from the Sze Chuan province in China. He had initially been unwilling to try the wheat noodles dipped in the strangely spicy sauce, but upon Kagome's insistence, had tried a small mouthful.

"_Hao chi ma? (Is it good?)" She asked, her eyes twinkling expectantly as she held up a thumbs-up sign._

_He coughed, unable to keep his eyes from watering as she laughed at his reaction. It was spicier than anything he had ever tried in his life. How could she eat it as if it was a delicacy?_

"_Is it good?" Kagome continued teasing him, holding up a large mouthful to his lips before he tried desperately to avoid that reddish noodles at the tip of her chopsticks. "Have some more?"_

_Then the red chili oil from the noodles accidentally stained the tip of his nose, and he found her wiping the bit of oil off with her handkerchief, before squeezing his nose playfully. She laughed merrily, reminding him strangely of bells and sunshine…_

He slammed his palm onto the window ledge in frustration.

Stop thinking of her! His mind screamed, and he turned away from the window with renewed determination. The fact that he could actually see Golden Phoenix Lounge from where he was did not help in the least.

He should not be thinking so much about her, really, when nothing would ever happen between them. Stubbornly, Sesshoumaru convinced himself that his thoughts of a certain Chinese girl were nothing more than feelings of guilt for having left without a word. There was no other reason, and there should never be, for having thoughts about her. After all, who was he trying to kid?

Sesshoumaru, of all people, should know that emotional ties were nothing but trouble. They would lead to his demise, and he should just spare both himself and Kagome unnecessary trouble and unhappiness. He was a betrayer of his own heart, soul and all the morals that his late parents might have attempted to instill in him. This act of kindness from him in letting her go with no strings attached was probably the best gift he could give her in return for her selflessness and compassion. She would only suffer if she stayed around him. With this 'gift', he would no longer have to feel guilty, and not feeling guilty meant that he would no longer have to keep her on his mind at all times.

That was how it should be. Now that he could stop thinking about her, he should stop thinking about her.

If he couldn't give her a future, he might as well return the present to her so she could lead her own life.

It had been a mistake from the very first day, after all. If he could turn back time, he would rather have not met her, he decided.

"Sesshoumaru-sama." A polite voice interrupted his thoughts, and he turned in the direction of the door.

"Enter, Bankotsu." He waved his hand at the chair opposite his own, before sitting down at the table. "What is it?"

"I need to speak to you in private." The young man sat himself down comfortably on the chair. "I mean, you've been away for awhile, and I thought I should update you on everything that has been going on here at our casino while I was standing in for you."

He nodded; the young man had taken over his duties at the casino after the shootout on the streets that had left half of their men dead. Deep down, Sesshoumaru respected the importance and high regard they placed on their brotherhood. His men could have simply dismissed him as being dead, but no, they refused to believe he was dead until they saw his corpse.

Bankotsu leaned forward such that he was looking at his team leader, and said solemnly. "I'll update you on the casino's operations later, but…it really was them. They have tried to create trouble at the casino in your absence."

Sesshoumaru was not quite surprised to hear it; he had been expecting Naraku, one of the prominent sub-leaders of the Green Gang to strike ever since they had started running the casino in Shanghai. At the fairly young age of thirty two, Naraku was a Japanese national who had come to China since many years ago. Heavily involved in the criminal underworlds of both Japan and China and dealings in the opium trade and human trafficking, he was considered by many to be the next King of the Shanghai underworld due to his famed ruthlessness.

Naraku must have viewed the new casino operated by Sesshoumaru's gang as a threat to his powerful standing and monopoly here in Shanghai's entertainment district, especially since Sesshoumaru had chosen to work with Zhao, who was Naraku's rival in supplying opium to the illegal dens which operated all over the country.

"The Green Gang members were the ones who killed our brothers…we will see to it that they pay for every drop of blood they had shed with their own! When are we going to avenge our brothers?" Bankotsu continued agitatedly, clenching his fists as he recalled the untimely deaths of his fellow gang members.

"You will refrain from acting on impulse, Bankotsu." Sesshoumaru replied smoothly, leaning back in his chair.

Surprise and confusion flashed across Bankotsu's previously furious expression. "What do you mean, Sesshoumaru-sama? What about our revenge?"

"Did I say anything about not taking revenge?" The silver-haired man asked coolly, dispelling all the heated agitation from his faithful subordinate in that instant. Staring ahead into nothingness, he allowed flashbacks of the night to revisit his mind. Perhaps it was because he had been with Kagome for too long; he had almost forgotten how his destiny really was like. He was born to lead this life, or so he believed, and the lone wolf had finally answered the call within his blood to return to his pack.

In his mind, he saw the way his subordinate Mushi had valiantly sacrificed his own life for the rest of them.

He remembered the way the young man had told him to run, before turning around to take down as many enemies as he could with him.

Then he recalled the intense, excruciating pain which had ripped through him when he had taken a bullet in his side.

All these suffering…they would not be in vain, he swore inwardly. With the same detached expression as he always wore like a curtain over his heart and mind, Sesshoumaru turned to regard a perplexed Bankotsu.

The corners of his lips turned up in a tiny smile, and Bankotsu could not help the involuntary shudder that ran down his spine. He knew that smile; Sesshoumaru never smiled for no reason, and when he did, it meant that something very, very terrible was going to happen.

"Shanghai will witness a blood rain soon." Parted lips whispered with bone-chilling viciousness. Every word was spoken with determination and a promise to destroy.

Bankotsu's eyes brightened and he smiled with a determined nod.

"Those vermin would get what they deserve for messing around with us. I'm glad you're back, Sesshoumaru-sama."

"Don't go mushy on me," He smirked in reply, picking his cup up to drain it of the water within. "I'm not used to it."

"Bastard." Bankotsu sneered in jest, tossing his head to get the bangs out of his face.

"Thanks." Sesshoumaru released a breath of amusement, giving the younger man a brotherly pat on his back. "I appreciate your efforts."

It was then when they both heard it – the unmistakable noises of a growing commotion coming from the ground level of their casino. Sitting up straight and whipping his revolver out from his pocket, Sesshoumaru's eyes followed Bankotsu's retreating back keenly as the young man sprinted out of the room to look over the stair railings to survey the situation downstairs. From where he was, he could see how Bankotsu body dipped slightly forward before he straightened his back, presumably cursing, before running back to Sesshoumaru's office.

"What's going on?"

"Sesshoumaru-sama, the damned cops from the Japanese embassy are here." Bankotsu's voice held a nervous edge to it, which was not surprising considering how the police would always be a threat to the underworld triads. The black and white could never mix; the best they could achieve was a peaceful coexistence like the yin and yang forces in Taoist beliefs.

"Wipe that nervousness off your face and get down there to make sure no one tries anything funny," Sesshoumaru commented languidly, tucking his revolver back into his pocket after rising from the chair he was seated in. "I'll go down in a while."

"Got it." The young man nodded, before sprinting out of the room to run down the stairs two steps at a time. Smirking, Sesshoumaru walked over to his desk, picking a piece of paper up before scribbling a few words onto it.

Standing straight up, he slipped the small piece of paper into his pocket, before making his way to the door. From where he was on the second level, Sesshoumaru could clearly hear the heated sounds of confrontation between the policemen and his men. Step by step he descended the winding stairs to agitated and anxious choruses of 'Sesshoumaru-sama', staring straight into the eyes of one particular man standing among the others, before he raised a hand to silence the commotion.

Smirking, Sesshoumaru descended the final step on the stairs as his men automatically split into two groups on each side to create a path for him to walk through. Step by step he closed in on the man whom he had locked eyes with, smirking when the man betrayed no hint of being intimidated.

It was only when they were standing less than a foot apart, staring eye to eye, did Sesshoumaru drawl. "To whom do we owe this pleasure, Saito-keishi? (Superintendent Saito)"

"Hn." The lanky, wolf-like man smirked before pulling his cigarette out from his mouth, throwing it down at the triad leader's feet. Sesshoumaru eyed the other man with narrowed eyes as he snuffed the cigarette out with his foot on the newly carpeted ground of the casino

"I was passing by, and I saw this new building in the middle of Nanking Street." Saito commented with a vaguely impressed expression, clucking his tongue as he surveyed his surroundings with his hawkish eyes. "Looks like a pretty posh place, eh? How could you not invite us?"

"That did not seem to have stopped you from appearing." Sesshoumaru replied smoothly, not breaking the intense eye contact between himself and Saito. The other man smirked again and exhaled audibly with a contemptuous expression, before tearing his eyes away to look beyond the common area where the casino tables were placed.

"That looks pretty fun…I am always up for a round or two of poker, black jack, the roulette…" The superintendent, who could have passed for a gangster himself with his mannerisms, commented in his annoyingly sarcastic drawl. "…and other activities that you provide beyond the usual ones."

"Cut that shit and get to the point! What the hell do you want?" One of Sesshoumaru's men, Kyokotsu, yelled agitatedly as he assumed a threatening pose.

"Kyokotsu." Sesshoumaru warned, and the enormous man backed off, muttering under his breath in disgruntlement.

"Is that how you treat your guests…" Saito raised an eyebrow coolly, turning his gaze back on Sesshoumaru who still did not seem fazed in the least. "…Demon Dog?"

The silver-haired man smirked, before taking a step closer to stand side by side with the wolf-like policeman. Turning such that his lips were a few centimeters away from the latter's, Sesshoumaru smiled contemptuously. "It depends on who the guest is."

"Hn."

"Unfortunately, I don't have all day to entertain you, Saito-keishi." Sesshoumaru continued, not knowing what exactly Saito was here for. After all, he could not read this man. He had never been able to read this man.

Saito smirked, staring down at his own shoes. Arching his back in what seemed to be a stretch, he grimaced slightly before relaxing.

"I just came by to welcome you to the neighborhood." He drawled, turning away to face the entrance of Thousand Blessings Casino. Casting his men a sideward glance, he said coolly, "Let's go."

But before he stepped into the sunlight, Saito raised his hand in a half-hearted wave with his back facing Sesshoumaru.

"I'll see you around, Demon Dog. Be a good doggy in my absence."

* * *

To be continued…


	6. Moving on with unforgettable thoughts

Standard disclaimers apply.

A/N: I am so happy you guys enjoyed the little crossover from Rurouni Kenshin in this story! Saitou's the most awesome SOB ever, and in this chapter, you can see Megumi, Sanosuke (My other OTP) and Lenalee from D. Grayman here. You don't have to know them to appreciate the story as who they are will not really matter too much, but for those who know them, it will be pretty fun to read. I'm trying my best to keep them in character in a different setting.

**~Shanghai~**

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The changing room resembled a disaster zone as always, with brightly-colored costumes and stage props, complete with sparkling sequins, beads and embroidery, strewn all over the place. Makeup artists, performers, program managers and backstage helpers jostled against each other in the limited space of the changing room, as voices tried to yell over the usual noise that they were all too accustomed to.

In contrast, Kagome sat quietly on her chair as one of the makeup artists at Golden Pheonix, a lady in her late-twenties by the name of Xiao Hui (Megumi), skillfully applied powder onto her face.

"A-Lee…what's wrong with your eyes today? Have you not been sleeping?" The older woman asked in her usual sing-song manner, dabbing more of the whitish powder in her hands under Kagome's eyes to hide the redness.

"Xiao Hui! Shhh…" Sango poked her head out from behind the changing room's curtain and hushed urgently, mimicking the actions of crying with her hands moving over her eyes.

Laughing lightly, the attractive lady gave Kagome a mock reproaching expression as they both gazed into the mirror in front of them. Known for her straightforwardness and candid attitude towards everything in life, Megumi simply exhaled in exasperation when she saw the state the younger girl was in.

"So what ground-shaking event took place? Did someone die?"

"Xiao Hui!" Sango screeched, only to receive a languid smile from the other woman.

Kagome shook her head quietly, lowering her eyes to stare unseeingly at the open rouge boxes in front of her.

"Cheh! I thought something very serious had happened…" The older woman gave a dismissive wave with her hand, before gently tilting Kagome's head backwards so as to gain better access to her face. Darkening the girl's eyebrows, Megumi continued. "Something terrible happened back home in Guangzhou? Did Mrs. Wang threaten to cut your pay? That's the worst thing that could happen, really."

Once again, Kagome shook her head.

"Ha! It must be men then." Megumi said with a hint of aloofness in her sultry voice, sounding as if she had known it all along. Looking into the mirror to ensure that both sides of Kagome's brows were well-balanced, she gave the girl a comforting pat on her shoulder. "I'm not quite surprised, actually. Men are all jerks."

Kagome remained deathly silent, but unfortunately for her, the older lady had no intention of refraining from commenting. Picking a pair of tweezers up, she plucked a few stray hairs at the end of Kagome's brow off, sharpening the line to create a higher brow arch. "I didn't know you were seeing someone, but…what did your man do? He cheated on you? He confessed that he didn't love you in the least?"

"No…" She replied quietly. It felt wrong talking about it this way, when Sesshoumaru was not even her man. He was a man, just a man whom she happened to save from the darkened alleys behind Golden Phoenix lounge. It was just that Kagome had believed that friendship existed between the two of them, and could definitely not deny the attraction she felt towards him.

"He left?" Megumi asked casually, making a downward movement with her hand to instruct Kagome to close her eyes. Brushing a thin layer of base color over the girl's eyelids, the older lady continued, "I've been through the same thing, you know. I know how you feel."

That caught Kagome's attention, and she looked up into Megumi's face.

"I have been with Sano ever since I was fifteen, and we've never been apart since then. Two years ago, he simply disappeared. I was waiting for him at home with the children. I had even cooked his favorite dish of braised chicken, but he never came home."

"What happened to him?" Kagome asked softly as the makeup artist added darker shades of brown eye shadow at the ends of her eyes to create a smoky effect.

"I was convinced he had died somewhere in a brawl." Megumi replied rather expressionlessly, as if she could not care less. "But then I received a letter from him. He didn't exactly write it, because he is barely literate, but he must have got someone to do it for him."

"Of all people he had to offend, he had to be stupid enough to step on the toes of some British man who serves at the British embassy. You know these white men; their word is everything! Sano was probably at fault, but they wanted to throw him into prison and take him to court for…ummm…what did they say, disrespecting the authorities?" Megumi went on, her strokes becoming harsher and less delicate as she recounted what had happened to her husband.

"They come to _our_ land and impose _their_ laws on us. Law? What law? China has been doing fine with the old laws, hasn't it? So that idiot had no choice but to run if he didn't want to end up squatting in prison for the next five years." Megumi sighed, her facial expression a mixture of helplessness and exasperation.

"He left?"

"Of course!" Megumi said nonchalantly, before giving Kagome a forced smile to get the younger girl to smile such that she could paint her cheeks with rouge. The brush flew over the apples of Kagome's cheeks, and she could see the loneliness that resided within the other woman's eyes. "That idiot hadn't even bothered with saying goodbye. He just snuck off when I was out with the kids, and all of a sudden, I was alone."

It was then when Kagome realized that this sharp-tongued, capable woman was nowhere as strong and unfeeling as she might appear to be. "Do you miss him?"

"Not really…" Megumi mumbled stubbornly, adding a bit of rouge to Kagome's cheek when she found one side to be lighter than the other. "Well…maybe sometimes. The home feels different without his noisy rants. He did say he'd come back one day, though I seriously doubt it."

Kagome settled for a smile; it was obvious that the older woman still missed her husband dearly despite sounding as if she could not care less.

"He's such a selfish jerk."

"But he sent you a letter from Mongolia."

Megumi sighed, rolling her eyes. "That doesn't change anything, you know. Reality says, I am still struggling by myself to raise three kids who are growing too quickly for their own good. Life goes on, I guess."

"He didn't have a choice, did he?" Kagome felt like she had to defend that poor man somehow, especially when she knew he definitely did care for his wife and children. If not, he wouldn't have bothered explaining his sudden disappearance. "Cheer up, he will come back."

"Then you should put a smile on your pretty face." Megumi tossed her straight, midnight hair over her shoulders, smiling at Kagome's reflection as she reached out for the glossy vermillion lipstick to paint the girl's lips with. "Because your man most probably didn't have a choice either."

With a tiny bitter smile, Kagome replied. "I wouldn't know."

"Ha! This is the worst thing to do – moping over someone who will never see your misery. You can do what I do…I tell myself Sano is dead so as to allow myself to continue living. Moping won't get you anywhere. You still have to eat, sleep and work. Think of your life, your dreams or what's important to you."

"Singing." It was merely a word, but Kagome's voice held a renewed sense of determination. "I want to sing…I want to be able to perform publicly one day."

"That's the right way to think. It beats being weepy all the time."

Giving the younger girl a knowing smile, Megumi patted her shoulder and told her to wait while she borrowed a lip brush from the other makeup artists. Left to her own thoughts, Kagome tried to take her mind off the new wave of melancholy that hit her.

Megumi's husband, Sano, would definitely be coming back. He had sent them letters, and he had people whom he would want to return for. They were married, and they had children.

She had nothing. He was, at the very most, a friend. It had been nothing but her wishful thinking from the very beginning.

Kagome sighed softly. Megumi was right in saying that life went on. Compared to the older lady's predicament, her situation was nothing.

Sesshoumaru was a complete stranger who came into her life by mistake; Sano had been with Megumi since they were teenagers.

Sesshoumaru had never openly expressed interest in her; Sano had married Megumi and had children with her.

Due to the language barrier, Kagome could not understand Sesshoumaru half the time, and vice versa. On the other hand, she could tell how well Sano and Megumi had gotten along while the man had been around from what she had heard from her makeup artist.

Last but definitely not least, Sesshoumaru was Japanese.

That made the idea of befriending him a preposterous one; everyone disliked and feared the Japanese. The first Sino-Japanese war fought over the control of Korea and dominance in the Northeast Asian region had strained ties. The Japanese presence in China had never been welcomed, even if it were for simple trading purposes. It was toleration that had enabled them to co-exist with each other.

Kagome thought herself to be such a fool; she was stupid, really. How naïve could she get? Just because the man was so breathtakingly handsome and attractive in a dark, stormy way, she had allowed herself to imagine that there could have been more between the two of them. She could always pick the pieces up slowly and move on.

Returning to Kagome's side, Megumi hurriedly proceeded to brush lip color over the younger girl's parted lips, outlining the delicate contours to create an impactful look which contrasted against her cheongsam, which was an innocent shade of creamy champagne.

"A-Lee? A-Lee! Where are you?" Their stage manager practically roared from the door leading to the stage, causing Megumi to huff in frustration before yelling back for the man to calm down.

"Do you want A-Lee to go out there with her makeup incomplete?" She huffed, clucking her tongue in annoyance. "I'm human too! I can only work so fast!"

Adding the finishing touches to Kagome's lips, Megumi gave her a rare genuine smile, and patted her on her shoulders. "We're done."

"Thank you, Xiao Hui. (Megumi)" Kagome smiled her appreciation as she stood up in the chair, rearranging the double pearl pins in her hair using the reflection in the mirror. The older woman had not only done her makeup; she had taught her a valuable lesson.

"Life goes on." Megumi shrugged with her classic foxy smile. "Now go out there and prove to everyone that we females can still live without the men."

* * *

Kagome closed her eyes, basking in the glamorous lights of the stage as the first notes of the sensual jazz music soothed the eager anticipation of the audience on the floor. Her body sought the rhythm of the music instinctively, swaying gently to the beat before opening her eyes to smile somewhat wistfully as she felt herself become one with the music. It resonated deep within her soul, beckoning to the side of her which loved to sing and perform, encouraging that Kagome to step out of her earlier misery.

From where she was, she could barely make out the faces of the audience seated at their respective tables; everything was a dim silhouette in the darkness. The only things she could see were the live band members and the dust motes floating on the tendrils of cigar smoke, which looked oddly like flecks of snow when the lighting caught them. But this time, she was not going to wonder if he was somewhere in the crowd. Kagome decided, she would imagine the faces of her contented and enthralled audience; she was doing something she loved to do, and she hoped to be appreciated for it.

The music grew livelier as the song Yi Nan Wang (Unforgettable Thoughts) progressed, and Kagome knew old Mrs. Wang had deliberately picked a more upbeat song for her to perform so as to avoid rubbing salt into her stinging wounds. In fact, the older lady had even considered the option of allowing her golden songstress to join Sango and Ayame's duet group for the night to sing their usual lively numbers. It was very thoughtful of her, for as much as Kagome was desperately trying to be strong, she was still unable to sing a melancholic, soulful song like Bu Liao Qing (Everlasting Love).

_Blue streetlights, flickering in the street…I face the window alone, gazing at the moonlight; the stars are twinkling…_Kagome started powerfully, extending her left arm sensually out to the audience before raising it in a slow, upward arc when she sang about the moon and the stars.

Her half-lidded eyes wore a tinge of melancholy while she continued singing with a wistful upturn of her lips.

_I am crying, I am crying, no one knows my thoughts…_

The lyrics were so upsetting and lonely; how many times had she cried under the moonlight in the chilly embrace of the autumn winds? The moonlight reminded her so strongly of him; it was the color of his hair. Yet the song was sensual and not tragic in the least; it was as if the song had meant for the singer to be strong. The melancholic mood within the lyrics nonetheless remained, but the song was sung with subtle feminine strength.

_Who is singing? It gently arrives from a distance…_She sang softly after a powerful display of her vocals, feigning confusion on her lovely visage while looking out into nowhere in particular in the audience, unknown that her eyes were meeting a certain person's. But because she didn't know, neither did she make the effort to look away. _It's missing you, it's missing you…the song that I love to sing…_

Skillfully, Kagome continued the song, parting her vermilion-painted lips to belt out note after note. _That white sweater, is still left by my side__…__I hold it to my bosom, a faint fragrance appears, and my heart is already shattered. _Pressing a palm to her left bosom, she willed herself to focus on the music and her professionalism as a songstress. She would remember Megumi's words; she would stay strong and continue living. Kagome was determined not to think of the peony-embroidered sheets on her bed, where Sesshoumaru's scent still lingered subtly.

_I'm crying, I'm crying…_She belted out powerfully, as if lost in the agitation felt by a woman abandoned by the man she loved. Then, dropping her voice to a sultry whisper, Kagome sang the final phrase._ …nobody knows me__.  
_

With that, Kagome ended the song with a sorrowful smile, listening closely to the music as its final notes faded to nothingness in the cigar-scented interior of the lounge. It was then when she realized that there were no tear stains on her rouged cheeks, and the only thing that was capable of betraying her sadness was thin film of moisture coating her eyes. Blinking to disperse the tears, she smiled and bowed to the audience, basking in the appreciative claps before returning to the backstage area.

She had not cried even though she had just sung a song which fitted her thoughts of him so well. The thought of it brought a contented smile to her face; she had done it, she had not dissolved into a quivering mess of tears and incoherent babbles like what she had so unprofessionally done during rehearsal.

When she stepped into the backstage room, Kagome gave a tiny shriek of surprise when her friends Ayame and Sango pulled her into a group hug, squeezing her tight as both girls laughed merrily. Everyone was glad that she had managed to deliver her performance perfectly, and even Megumi, who usually could not appear to care less, gave her a knowing smile. Kagome's spirits soared when it dawned upon her just how much her friends and colleagues cared for and supported her, and the great sense of satisfaction achieved from finishing a well-received performance was something she treasured very much.

She had no reason to be unhappy, especially when she had so much to look forward to in life. Singing was her greatest passion; there was no way she would allow her dreams of doing a public performance one day to be jeopardized by sadness.

After the little merry crowd had dispersed, Kagome made herself comfortable on one of the armchairs in the corner of the room, flipping through a bound stack of music scores and lyrics while sipping on loquat tea to soothe her throat. Too much cigar smoke in the same confined area could do damage to her treasured vocals should she not take good care of her throat. It was then when she heard old Mrs. Wang's voice from the door, calling out again and again over the racket, "A-Lee! A-Lee, where are you? Can you please come over for a while?"

Placing the cup on the coffee table, Kagome stood up from the armchair, smoothing out the creases in her cheongsam before walking over to where her employer was. "Yes, Mrs. Wang?"

"My child, your earlier performance of Yi Nan Wang (Unforgettable Thoughts) was very good." Mrs. Wang said, eliciting a humble smile from Kagome as the younger girl nodded her acknowledgement of the compliment. Being a highly-experienced singer and a lounge songstress herself, it was more than difficult to receive a decent comment from Mrs. Wang. Receiving such a compliment meant that Kagome had performed outstandingly, to the extent of being almost perfect by professional standards.

"There's someone in the audience who would like to meet you." The older lady continued, leading the lounge's golden girl by her hand as they walked to the side exit of the changing room which would lead out to the floor. "Come with me."

"Who is it?" Kagome questioned confusedly. Normally, Mrs. Wang would never allow members of the audience, especially the males, to meet any of the songstresses even if they offered to pay handsomely for the few minutes of interaction. _Golden Phoenix Lounge is not a cabaret, _Mrs. Wang would firmly insist. _The girls deliver the entertainment, but they are not part of the entertainment._

Then why was she leading Kagome to this person, whoever he or she might be?

"It's a Japanese gentleman, A-Lee. He was apparently very impressed by your earlier performance, and would like to speak to you."

Eyes widening, Kagome felt as if someone had thrown her into a tub of iced water when she heard the word 'Japanese'. Her mind started whirring, and she became very conscious of the way she was barely able to breathe properly. Surely, it couldn't be…

"But, I thought we are not allowed to-"

"I know what you mean, my child. Don't worry; have I not put your well-being as priority throughout these years? This gentleman's intentions are honorable."

Gulping to ease her tightly-wound nerves, Kagome allowed herself to be led by the woman who was both her mentor and employer through the floor, weaving through the gaps among the tables. The mysterious combination of Chinese drums, flute and Guzheng reverberated in the air as another of her colleagues, a lovely, willowy girl by the name of Lenalee, danced the highly-challenging dance titled 'The Spring Oriole is singing'. Yet, despite the captivating performance on stage, Kagome could practically feel the burning eyes of the people surrounding her, from the intense, appreciative gaze from some of the men, to discreet sideward glances and narrowed eyes of jealousy and envy from some of the men's female companions.

They walked right to the back, where there was a curved flight of steps leading up to the exclusive balcony on the second level reserved for only the guests who could afford the prime seats. Ascending the stairs, Kagome followed Mrs. Wang with her head lowered in humble modesty, until they finally came to one of the tables.

"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting. Here is A-Lee," Mrs. Wang apologized before introducing, stepping aside to reveal a nervous Kagome who finally raised her head slowly.

She could have breathed a sigh of relief if not for her professionalism, but yet there was a sense of immense disappointment tugging at her heartstrings. For unlike the moonshine tresses she had anticipated to lay eyes upon again, the man sitting at the table had hair as dark as night. A proud, confident air lingered on the handsome, chiseled features as eyes of rusty brown fixed themselves on her, and she shyly smiled when the man's lips turned upwards in a satisfied, appreciative smile.

Stepping forward, Mrs. Wang smiled encouragingly at Kagome to dispel the latter's uneasiness, before introducing.

"A-Lee, this is Mr. Nai Luo (Naraku)…"

_

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To be continued…_


	7. An unbelievable proposal

Standard disclaimers apply.

A/N: Thank you for the wonderful reviews of Shanghai! The story is definitely building in terms of plot, and we see more progress in this one. Enjoy!

The song in this chapter is titled 'Mei Gui Mei Gui Wo Ai Ni' (Rose, Rose I love you) and I would like to dedicate this chapter to my dear friend Naiadine who helped me pick the song.

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**~Shanghai~**

The streets of Shanghai are slowly fading into slumber, he mused as he watched the last of the street food vendors push their carts, loaded with pots and pans, slowly along the darkened streets. The only sounds he could hear along the entire stretch were the rumbling of their rickety wheels against the stone, a few random cars and the occasional drunkard's incoherent singing.

Following the path that would lead to Golden Phoenix Lounge with his eyes, Sesshoumaru cast a glance at his watch, before looking up to regard the brightly-lit building.

Five…

Four…

Three…

Two…

One.

The neon lights went out, plunging Nanking Street into deeper darkness, adding a touch of loneliness to the street which had been bustling with activity earlier in the evening. But that didn't come as a surprise; it was exactly one in the wee hours of the morning, and most people were already in the safety of their respective homes.

_She_ was an exception.

But still, that did not explain the way his mouth was involuntarily set in a grim line.

A gentle, tentative knock came from his door, and he strode away from the window to stand at the gramophone in his personal office. Feigning interest in the vinyl records arranged neatly on the shelves, he called out casually. "Enter."

It was Bankotsu. "Sesshoumaru-sama, I have just received news from our informant on Naraku's men's location."

Sesshoumaru nodded once, not even bothering with turning back to face his trusty right-hand man. "Go on."

"The informant said that those bastards would be gathered at the granary near the port this Friday night, where their stashes of opium are hidden among the rice and wheat flour."

He subtly raised his eyebrows, before retrieving another double-sided vinyl record from the Chinese contemporary music collection the late businessman Zhao had presented to him on their first meeting. Placing it onto the turntable of the gramophone, he shifted the diaphragm of the gramophone such that the stylus came into contact with the audio record.

"Trustworthy?" He asked as if disinterested, only to wear a satisfied expression when the starting notes of Western jazz filled the interior of his personal office. The accompaniment of strings added an elegant, soft touch to the music.

_Wei she me yao dui ni diao yan lei…ni nan dao bu ming bai wei liao ai…_

He froze, despite barely comprehending the Chinese lyrics. He had heard this song before.

It was the same song which Kagome had sung to him after feeding him rice congee, when he had been recuperating from the gunshot wound in her room. Flipping the cover of the vinyl record over, Sesshoumaru saw that the song was titled 'Lover's Tears', before mental images of an obsidian cheongsam, pearl necklace and luscious rouged lips returned to haunt his mind.

He hadn't been smoking prior to playing the vinyl record, but Sesshoumaru could almost smell the lightest hints of cigar as his traitorous mind played tricks on his olfactory senses. There was no meaning in denial; Sesshoumaru could not shake Kagome off his mind.

"Sesshoumaru-sama…Sesshoumaru-sama?"

Bankotsu's concerned voice jolted him from his reverie, though he revealed no hint of having lost his composure for a second.

"What were you saying before this?" He asked gruffly, pressing a cool palm to his forehead. "Sorry, my mind was somewhere else."

Quick to jump to the conclusion that his leader was probably exhausted after spending three long days following up on all the operations of their gang upon reappearing at Thousand Blessings Casino, Bankotsu replied, "It's nothing too important, Sesshoumaru-sama. You should get some rest, and I'll report everything to you in the morning. I am sorry we haven't managed to book a hotel room for you in such notice-"

"It's fine." Sesshoumaru replied promptly. After all, sleeping on the large couch in his office was not exactly that unpleasant considering a last-minute arrangement, and he had been through far worse in the past. Surprising Bankotsu when he stopped the gramophone midway during the music before reaching out to take his coat off the hook, Sesshoumaru strode to the door.

"I am going out for a while."

"At this hour? Where?" The younger man was almost incredulous, wondering where his leader would go to at this time. His stoic, seemingly-emotionless leader had been acting somewhat strangely ever since he turned up at the main entrance of Thousand Blessings Casino – he seemed to have a tendency to drift off in his own thoughts whenever he was left alone. It was so obvious that even someone as dense as Kyokotsu could realize it, which meant Sesshoumaru's uncharacteristic displays had been very apparent indeed.

Stopping dead in his tracks, Sesshoumaru turned to cast a level gaze at Bankotsu, telling the man in his own way that he was forgetting his place by asking way too much.

"I mean, do you need any of us to go with you?" Bankotsu was quick to add, despite being a little unnerved by his leader's narrowed gaze. After all, Sesshoumaru was not known as Demon Dog among the underworld triads for nothing, and he had a natural way of unsettling anyone with merely a look if he wished to do so.

Sesshoumaru continued walking down the winding stairs, before looking up at a slightly embarrassed Bankotsu. There was no need for protection; he had brought his revolver along, and it was not as if he was going out to look for a fight. "No."

Striding out from the main entrance of Thousand Blessings Casino onto the empty street without a backward glance, all he had for company were the fallen leaves dancing in the late autumnal night winds. Shoving his hands into his coat pockets, he strode silently in the direction of the building which he had developed a habit of silently gazing at every time he got some private time in his office.

The streets were even more silent now that he was standing on them, and he could not help but feel a little uneasy upon thinking of a certain Chinese girl who was going to walk home alone along these darkened streets and alleys at this ungodly hour. Cursing himself for having interacted with her enough to develop a soft spot for her, Sesshoumaru nonetheless quickened his footsteps, intending to watch over her silently as she made her way home.

_This is nothing…this is nothing,_ he repeated deep within his mind. He was merely atoning for the guilt he felt over leaving her without a word.

Turning the corner when he reached the end of the street, Sesshoumaru saw the grand entrance of Golden Phoenix Lounge, before catching sight of a few figures standing at the top of the steps leading into the realm of captivating entertainment within.

Then he saw her; the person who had been haunting his thoughts as if she was a vengeful spirit.

Kagome.

Rationality kicked in, and he hurriedly darted into the shadows of a gap between two tall buildings, observing the group of five silently as they continued to engage in conversation. The distance between them and his intention to remain hidden meant that there was no way he could have caught a single sentence of the conversation, but from where he was, he could see Kagome smiling sweetly and nodding her head bashfully as she continued speaking to the two men who were back facing him.

There was an older woman, elegant in a long beaded cheongsam, standing by Kagome's side. Her face was all smiles, and her hand kept patting Kagome on the shoulder, as if praising the latter. A few minutes went by with Sesshoumaru observing silently, wondering just why it was that the man standing opposite Kagome between two others seemed so familiar from the back. It was then when he heard the sounds of an approaching car, and he instantly ducked to hide behind some woven rattan baskets to avoid being caught by the headlights of the automobile.

Peeping through the gaps of the rattan baskets, Sesshoumaru realized that the car had pulled over at where Kagome and the others were standing, before a chauffeur hurriedly exited from the driver's seat to open the door for whoever was going to enter the car. Curiously, Sesshoumaru wondered just who was it Kagome could be speaking to at this ungodly hour outside Golden Phoenix Lounge. She had never had the habit of interacting too much with the customers.

It was then when he saw how the male figure standing opposite Kagome extended his hand towards her and looped his arm around slender waist, bringing her closer to him as he led her to the car. The man turned around to help Kagome in, and Sesshoumaru felt his blood run cold before it heated up to near boiling point as he took in the familiar figure and visage.

_Naraku_! His mind spat bitterly, and a sinking sensation gripped his chest cavity. Sesshoumaru had not counted on seeing the man whom he had come to Shanghai for, and to see him with Kagome had only managed to stir up even more negative feelings within his chest. The man hadn't changed in the least – his face was still wearing the same pretentious, smiley façade, and the left sleeve of his coat was still as limp and empty as ever. The only thing that had changed was the length of his raven hair – it had grown out into a mid-back length ponytail from what used to be a messy medium-length shag haircut. Perhaps that was the reason why Sesshoumaru found him familiar but was unable to identify him immediately.

Growing uneasiness gripped him; he knew that Naraku could never simply be an admirer of the lovely songstress. There had to be more to what met the eye.

Yet the more his instincts roared for him to sprint out there to deliver a fatal shot to Naraku's head, the more rationality shoved him back into the dreary shadows of the sleeping street.

But what the fuck was that vile creature intending to do with Kagome? From their faces, it was not hard to tell that Kagome was enjoying Naraku's company very much indeed. Craning his neck, Sesshoumaru tried to see more, but Kagome was already well-hidden from his view.

Then Naraku followed Kagome into the car, and it wasn't long before the car was moving further and further away from him, and all that was left on Nanking Street was haunting silence and a very vexed man.

* * *

"Thank you for the ride home, Mr. Naraku." Kagome thanked in Chinese before exiting the car, returning the sincere smile on the charming Japanese man's lips.

"Don't mention it, A-Lee." Naraku replied with a casual wave of his hand. His Chinese was almost perfect from having spent so many years in Shanghai, with the only inevitable flaw being the tinge of Japanese accent in his speech.

A slightly awkward moment ticked by with Kagome smiling bashfully, before Naraku added, "I sincerely hope you will consider my proposal."

_His eyes…they are so intense,_ Kagome thought as she felt herself get lost within those orbs of rusty brown, barely registering his words. There was just something that distinguished Mr. Naraku from most of the men she had met in her life. On top of physical attractiveness, he was a smooth-talker armed with confidence and persuasiveness, which made it very difficult for soft-hearted Kagome to say no to. It did not come as a surprise, since he had introduced himself as a Japanese businessman whose business ventures were mainly based in China. That was all he had said about himself, but she knew there had to be more to this man to have made Mrs. Wang more than willing to agree to a meeting between him and Kagome.

"I will definitely consider it, Mr. Naraku." Kagome bowed politely. "I hope to see you soon at Golden Phoenix."

"You can count on it, beautiful Shanghai Warbler. Have a good rest." With that, the car drove off, and Kagome was left standing at the entrance of the old courtyard where her rented room was. Rubbing her forearms furiously, Kagome tried to dispel the chill from the autumn winds which had stealthily crept into her bones. The wind was blowing strongly, but blow as it might, it failed to take her unhappy thoughts away with it. With a heavy heart and an inaudible sigh, Kagome started to make her way back to her room.

Earlier back at Golden Phoenix Lounge, Naraku had requested for Kagome to sing another song on the stage for him after the last official performance for the night had ended. Perplexed but nonetheless determined to maintain her professional image, she had bravely stepped onto stage to perform for her only audience. With Mrs. Wang's enthusiastic encouragement, Kagome had chosen to perform the immensely popular song titled 'Mei Gui Mei Gui, Wo Ai Ni (Rose, Rose, I love you)' for the handsome Japanese businessman.

Walking her to the stage, he had displayed the grace and refined manners which she had expected only from the Caucasian customers. So, this Naraku was familiar with Western mannerisms and was well aware of how a lady should be treated, and this made him all the more intriguing and attractive to a highly culturally inquisitive Kagome. After walking her to the stage, he had seated himself at the nearest table on the floor, staring up at a rather self-conscious Kagome with his intense gaze, as if reading her every move.

As Mrs. Wang gave the live band the cue to start playing, Kagome felt herself melt into the opening notes of the light-hearted beat and slightly flirty melody, before dancing on the spot at the microphone stand. Due to her earlier performance being a more somber song, Kagome was not dressed to perform a song like 'Rose, Rose, I love you', and all she had for props was a red rose which Mrs. Wang had hastily shoved into her hands. Given that she could not depend on her costume for help to lead the listener into her music, she would have to guide them into her song with her voice and body language.

Unlike the other times when she would simply stare out into nowhere in particular during her performances, Kagome chose to gaze down from the stage at the man who was her only audience, save for the two followers who stood behind him and Mrs. Wang. He was still studying her as if she was a piece of prized jade, and she absentmindedly wondered if it was a characteristic of all Japanese men to have such deep, intense gazes that seemed capable of reaching into the recesses her soul.

_Rose, Rose, so stunning! Rose, Rose, so ravishing! You bloom on a tip of a branch throughout the long summer…Rose, Rose, I love you!_ Kagome sang with a mixture of coyness and saccharine sweetness as she had been trained to do with this song, noticing how the Japanese man's earlier intensity had been replaced by an anticipatory smile that lingered at his lips.

Cocking her head to the side, Kagome closed her eyes as if she was a girl lost in her own world of sweet, fragrant, rose-hued romance, smiling while she continued swaying her body sensually to the music. Holding the rose to her face and inhaling its faint scent appreciatively, Kagome continued with the second verse.

_Rose, Rose, you touch me so deeply. Rose, Rose, my love is true,_ She continued, opening her eyes slowly and deliberately as if she was awakening from the rose-tinted slumber to the realization of her love. _You bloom throughout the long summer beside the thorns…Rose, Rose, I love you!_

Pressing a palm to her left bosom, she sang, _I pledge my heart, my tender love, your pure brilliance radiates throughout the vast lands._ Coyly trailing the soft petals of the rose along her cheek, she spread her arms wide, beckoning bashfully with her fingers while she maintained the eye contact with the Japanese businessman.

_I pledge my heart, my tender love; your pristine radiance illuminates the vast lands…_

The man standing by Naraku's side bent down to whisper something in the latter's ear, eliciting a very contented smile from the handsome Japanese man. The look did not go unnoticed by Kagome, and she returned the smile with one of her own, blushing involuntarily when her smile was acknowledged with a nod.

It was only when the song ended, did she make her way to the table where Naraku was seated. Taking her seat by his side, she regarded him with large, slightly nervous eyes as she waited for him to say something, or anything, with regards to her performance. Still unsure as to why Mrs. Wang had requested for her to stay behind in Golden Phoenix to perform for this man, Kagome could only sit there to await her answers. She tried to look at her mentor for hints of anything that might be going on, but the older woman was simply all smiles.

"Don't be so nervous," The Japanese businessman reassured, patting Kagome's shoulder with gently before giving her an approving nod and smile. "You sing beautifully, Shanghai Warbler."

Mrs. Wang was quick to add, "Yes, Mr. Naraku, our A-Lee is definitely one of the best rising young singers in Shanghai! We are absolutely confident that she will be talent-spotted one day and get a contract with a recording label."

"I fully agree, Mrs. Wang," Naraku continued smoothly, before turning back to look at a blushing Kagome. "This is why I have decided to invite Miss A-Lee to perform for a spring charity gala which I am involved in organizing in Peking. Would you do me the honor of agreeing to my humble request, Miss A-Lee?"

Kagome's lips parted slightly in disbelief and shock, feeling her mind spin with the unexpected turn of events. Never in her wildest dreams had the prospect of being invited to perform publicly crossed her mind, but yet at the same time, it was everything she had ever wished for and aspired to do. To think that just hours ago in the dressing room, Kagome had confided in Megumi that her passion was singing, and her dream was to be able to perform in public one day.

Now, the chance was practically knocking on her door, and it was Peking too.

Mrs. Wang patted Kagome's hand excitedly, and the young girl could see just how elated her mentor was. "A-Lee, did you hear that? Such a large, prominent city will definitely be full of equally socially prominent individuals, and if you're really lucky, there might even be powerful people who work in the music and entertainment industry at the charity gala. If you're scouted for your talents…"

"But…I…" Kagome started, not knowing how she should reply. After all, it would not do her any good to offend the seemingly-powerful man.

"You would have to come with me to Peking for the winter as there are many things to see to, and I would arrange for a vocal specialist to train and prepare you for the performance. You are a piece of prized _pu yu_ (uncarved jade), and I would be very honored if you would allow me to carve and mould you into the shining star you can be…"

Recalling the earlier conversation she had with the Japanese businessman back at Golden Phoenix Lounge, Kagome could not help but feel a little overwhelmed by the sudden realization that her long-time dream might be coming true. Of course, it wasn't as if she hadn't entertained the thought of it. On the contrary, she had imagined it on countless occasions ever since she became a songstress at Golden Phoenix.

But still, this was too sudden. One moment she was singing on stage as usual in the lounge, and the next thing she knew, she was presented with an opportunity to go to Peking to perform for a charity gala. She was too lucky; she was not even a professional singer with a recording label. It was too good to be true, and Kagome still could not believe it as she stepped into her room.

Furthermore, seeing her cold, empty room made her think of everything she had in Shanghai. Her aunt Feng (Kaede), her friends Sango, Ayame, Megumi and Shippo, her job, and…him. She was guilty of imagining him coming back into her life again somehow, be it a chance meeting on the streets or deliberately looking her up at Golden Phoenix. After all, he knew where she worked, and could look for her if he really wished to do so. The ball was in his court.

Now, it was up to her to make the decision.

_

* * *

To be continued…_


	8. A Secret Revealed in the Blood Rain

Standard disclaimers apply.

A/N: Thank you for all the wonderful reviews! Sesshoumaru has a deep dark secret to hide, and this chapter will see the major plot twist which would change many things to come.

I would also like to dedicate this chapter to Siki (EagleFeathersInMyHair) as a little birthday gift! You're awesome, my dear! I hope you like this.

**~Shanghai~**

* * *

The night view of Huangpu River and Nanking Street from his hotel room at Cathay Hotel was magnificent to say the least, and the interior of the hotel definitely set new luxury standards for the 1930s with in-house telephones, electric elevators, indoor fresh water plumbing and even air-condition. Standing at the balcony overlooking the Huangpu River, he took a sip of his Martell XO Supreme, enjoying the slow transition of the sweet, fruity first notes into oriental spicy sophistication lingering on his tongue.

The cognac was reputed to be one of the finest, yet for some strange reasons, he could taste a hint of bitterness and sourness at the end. From where he was on the eighth level, Sesshoumaru gazed down to look at the grassy banks of the river.

There was a man and a woman sitting side by side on the grass, and he found himself staring transfixed at them for a full minute as they laughed and chatted under the pale glow of the moon and the jarring neon lights of Shanghai's night.

He had already told himself not to think about it, but he couldn't help it.

In his mind, Sesshoumaru saw the night he had sat on the very same grassy bank overlooking the majestic yet peaceful river with Kagome, bidding her goodbye in a language she could not understand.

The way she had smiled sincerely as he said goodbye to her in Japanese would probably haunt him forever; he did not deserve kindness or understanding of any sort. In fact, it would have been better if she could ignore or hate him. If she had done that, he would have felt a lot better.

Traitorous was the mind, for Sesshoumaru could not help but try to imagine Kagome's reaction when she had awoken in the morning. Had she been upset, or mad at him? He hoped it was the latter, though he'd never know.

Drawing a deep, frustrated breath of the earthy breeze, Sesshoumaru closed his eyes and turned his back on Huangpu River and his memories. He had never been one to dwell on matters which he did not like thinking about – he had come such a long way in life, despite being young at twenty six years of age. At the tender age of eight, he had lost his parents to a fire in the village he lived in, and while he had been badly shocked by the incident then, Sesshoumaru had not shed a tear. It wasn't as if his heart was like an unfeeling rock; it was just that he had been able to avoid thinking about their deaths because he did not wish to.

He had brainwashed and manipulated the minds of countless people in his life, so why was he unable to convince himself to stop thinking of the girl?

She would only be a burden to him, hindering him in everything…but it was such an irony, because by thinking that she was burdensome, he was actually still thinking of her.

Casting a glance at his watch, he saw that it was nine in the evening. It was time.

Sesshoumaru left the balcony and returned to the comfort of his hotel room, settling himself comfortably on the bed, sitting with his back against the headboard. Picking the receiver of the phone by his bed up, he hooked his index finger into the rotary dial, dialing the number scribbled on a piece of candy wrapper by the telephone.

Allowing it to ring for exactly five times, Sesshoumaru hung up before picking the receiver up again to repeat the process. Five times it rang, and he replaced the receiver. On the third time, he allowed it to continue ringing, until it got cut off on the sixth ring.

"It's me." He said flatly.

"Ah, still alive. And punctual as always." Came the smooth, languidly annoying voice from the other end. "Where the hell have you been? I tried searching after hearing news of the shootout, but you were nowhere to be found."

He closed his eyes, taking another sip of his cognac, before swirling the glass appreciatively. Talking about the night of the shootout by the Green Gang made him think of a certain girl who saved him from death. Funnily enough, the cognac left a bitter aftertaste again. "I…managed to escape."

"And decided to play the disappearance game?"

"I took a bullet in my side. In fact, I've only returned to Thousand Blessings since three days ago."

"Mm-hm."

"The disappointment in your voice is rather blatant." Sesshoumaru commented dryly, his lips upturned in a wry smirk. "Sorry I didn't die."

A low chuckle was heard. "I'd have to write a bloody report if you die on the job. I could do without that shit."

Sesshoumaru smirked again. "Benevolent as always."

"Wait a minute…did you say you were back for three days? And you didn't bother to get in touch?"

"I didn't get the chance to be alone. They couldn't get me a hotel room in such short notice, so I stayed at the casino with some of the men."

"Hn. So you're perfectly alright now? No permanent damage?"

"Sorry to disappoint you, but I am alive and kicking." Sesshoumaru replied with a bored expression, fiddling with the telephone cord absentmindedly.

"Good."

"Just don't give me more trouble." He muttered, closing his eyes as he inhaled the crisp scent of freshly-laundered sheets and carpet cologne in his hotel room.

An annoying chuckle came from the other end, and Sesshoumaru could visualize the sneer which probably came with it. "Surprisingly, you dealt with it alright."

"So what are the orders?"

"None till I contact you again. After all, your old friend would approach you sooner or later with regards to the opium deals, now that Zhao is dead."

"Naraku is not my old friend."

"Can't take a joke, Nishikawa Sesshoumaru?" The voice continued, and there was a pause. It did not take Sesshoumaru more than two seconds to figure what the other person was doing.

He smirked, though there was no one else around him to see it. "I'd go easy on those cigarettes if I were you."

"Which you're not, so quit nagging, _Mom_." The lazy drawl was as hostile as always, but it held the subtlest tint of humor. "Feigning close ties with Zhao had its benefits. You did well on that…I believe Naraku is going to do everything in his abilities to ensure a better deal. He might hold a grudge against you for breaking his arm so many years ago in Japan, but that man will never hold a grudge against money."

"Hm. He has dabbled in opium, heavy arms…I don't know what else. But as of now, he seems to be enjoying close ties with the Dutch and the British."

"You suspect he is thinking of bringing the opium into Japan?"

Sesshoumaru released the breath he had been holding. "He could do it to China. So I am not ruling that possibility out."

"Well, it's your job to find out." The voice continued. "We have sufficient information to know he is planning to ship something to Japan in bulk, but we have no idea what it could be. But that's secondary, of course. You know what you are there for, _brainwasher_. Is there anything you need?"

"I'd like to take foreign language classes. Make arrangements."

"Mm-hm. That's good. The fewer the local interpreters we have to hire, the better. You can't trust those people, especially the sneaky Chinese. What do you want to learn?"

"Chinese." He said almost immediately, before adding to disguise any hints of his enthusiasm. "It will make things easier since I am here."

"Right."

"I'll contact you again then." Sesshoumaru replied, closing his eyes to relax his whirring mind. There was a lot to be done, especially since he had been gone for such a long time.

"Sure." The man snickered, before adding in his arrogant drawl. "Though I have a feeling I will see you in person very, very soon."

"You're too bored, as always. Go find some entertainment."

"Had my fair share. I might be developing a taste for Chinese…delicacies." The way the voice had put it made a portion of Sesshoumaru's heart twist, bringing a certain feminine face to his mind. "But my wife might kill me if she found out."

"I should thank you for giving me a clue on how to get rid of you indirectly."

"Hn. You're taking revenge soon to lure him out, aren't you? It was pretty clear, really, when he sent his men to kill you. Doesn't take a genius to figure out that he wants to warn you against working with anyone else, and killing Zhao would cut your opium source off." The voice continued, and Sesshoumaru could hear the rhythmic tapping of a pen against a tabletop in the background. "Try not to die in the brawl with Naraku's cronies. We don't need excess trouble."

"Yeah." He shifted in the bed to reach over to the side so that he could replace the receiver. But before he replaced the receiver, Sesshoumaru added, "Oh, one more thing. Don't ever throw your damned cigarette butt onto the carpeted floor at Thousand Blessings again, _Saito-keishi_."

The man merely chuckled, and the line went dead.

* * *

The roar of gunshots and clashing knifes danced in a gruesome rhythm of splattering blood and collapsing bodies as the men rushed at each other fearlessly in the deserted granary. One side was emboldened by the raging thirst for vengeance, while the other was trying their best to defend themselves to their best ability. Fatal slashes of steel against flesh reverberated within the dusty air, while the gunny sacks filled with grains and perhaps opium were gradually stained a revolting crimson as bodies slumped over them.

A leg flew up into his view of vision, and Sesshoumaru hurriedly ducked to evade the attack which he had been expecting to strike his head, only to feel a sharp blow to his left hand. The abrupt pain shot up his arm like lightning, numbing the digits on his hand for a moment, causing him to drop the revolver he had been holding. Looking up with gritted teeth, he caught sight of the feral expression of a boorish-looking man who was obviously more than eager to try to take Sesshoumaru's head for himself.

"Sesshoumaru-sama, watch out!" One of his men, Kanda, shouted over the grisly din to warn his leader, before raising the knife in his hand to meet his adversary's blade in mid-air. "That guy has a knife behind him-"

No sooner had Kanda shouted the warning than Sesshoumaru caught the silvery flash of what was unmistakably a lethal blade moving rapidly in his direction, and he swiftly stepped to the side to avoid the blade. Picking up a heavy gunny sack containing white rice, Sesshoumaru hurled it in the direction of his attacker as the latter whirled around to attempt to stab him again. Rice grains rained over them when the sharp blade embedded itself easily into the gunny sack, slicing through the burlap choppily to expose its contents. The bulky male fumbled for a moment, trying to free his weapon from the improvised trap Sesshoumaru had thrown at him. That was an open opportunity for Sesshoumaru, and he would be damned if he did not take it.

_Mushi, this is for you,_ Sesshoumaru thought sadistically as he wrapped his hand around one of the empty beer bottles strewn on a table by the side.

Smashing the glass bottle against the wooden table with a splintering crash, Sesshoumaru swung his arm back before lunging forward to stab the jagged end deep into the abdomen of the adversary, pushing and twisting the makeshift weapon further in until he felt sticky, warm blood drip from the man's parted lips onto his arm. The half-filled sack of rice fell to the ground, throwing the pearly grains into the air as they bounced off the dusty ground.

"Your blood would be an offering to my friend's soul." He whispered softly, staring unwaveringly into the hatred-filled eyes of the dying man. With a smile, Sesshoumaru pulled the bottle out in the opposite direction, not even blinking even when flecks of crimson sprayed forth to stain his cheeks.

There was a common Chinese superstition saying how one should never look into the eyes of a person dying an unjust death, for it would lead to the person coming back to haunt the individual. Sometime back in his youth, he had too, been a firm believer of this superstition. Yet as time slipped him by, he grew immune to fear. What could a dead man do? A dead man was a dead man. Should the vengeful spirit return to take his soul away, Sesshoumaru would not even have a soul to offer. If the spirit wanted him dead, well, that was a greater joke, because he did not fear death in the least. He would like to live if he could, but if death were to come to claim him, then so be it.

The sadistic smile continued lingering on Sesshoumaru's lips as he wondered if the deceased young man would appreciate the bloody offering. _Drip, drip_, went the blood onto the soil below before the severely wounded man collapsed clumsily. The thick, heated blood continued to flow, flowing all the way down the earth to hell where those killed by Naraku's minions would be appeased.

Mushi might have been a common mafia member with a simple mind, but he was loyal till the very end. For that, Sesshoumaru respected him deeply. A measure of a man did not lie in the side to which he belonged – black or white, did it really matter?

He smirked when he picked his revolver up and pumped two bullets into the left chest of a man, causing a fountain of blood to spray forth into the air. _"You fucking bastard, I'll kill you!"_ He heard someone scream agitatedly from behind him, not that he was affected by those words in the least. Death threats were nothing new to him; he had been on both the receiving and the giving end when it came to such words. It was silly of that man to have yelled; all he had managed to accomplish was hasten his own death by revealing his location and intent.

A resounding gunshot was heard over the sounds of death and destruction as his gang exacted revenge on those who killed their fellow brothers so ruthlessly. Then the agitated voice fell silent, doomed never to utter a sound again.

He smiled to himself.

Who said white was good, and who could judge if black was bad?

Was he white, or was he black? Sesshoumaru mused, kneeing one man forcefully in the gut before gripping hold of his head and slamming it repeatedly against the fragments of glass bottles strewn all over the splintered wood. He could hear howls of agony and desperate pleas over the morbid sounds of glass being embedded deep within mangled flesh, but for some odd reason, they did not get to him in the least. If anything, it made him slam the man's gruesomely bleeding face again and again the wood and glass.

A gurgled cry escaped the man, and his body ceased thrashing to lie limp against the wooden table, before falling backwards with a dull thud. Sesshoumaru smirked; the face was almost unrecognizable. Yet the eyeballs of the man, so widely exposed by the shredded bits of skin and flesh which used to be eyelids, stared hard at him.

They screamed and accused in deathly silence. _Murderer. Killer. Destroyer._

_Whatever._

Lifting his foot, Sesshoumaru nudged the body such that it was laying face-down.

Maybe, from the very beginning, there was no white or black to speak of. Yin and Yang didn't make sense, for he was one who traversed the conflicting realms, lurking in the shadows of the gray areas.

Did he like this?

He did not know. But he could remember the binding fear that had gripped him and left him waking up with nightmares for a week when he first killed a man many, many years ago.

Now, killing was nothing. It came to him as naturally as eating, drinking, working.

It was only when twenty bodies littered the granary, did his men, all twenty-four of them, gather around him. Some of them were hurt, but no one on his side was going to die. They had seen enough death on the night of the shootout. Blood drenched contented faces, heaving chests and guiltless souls as the men silently took in the sight of the horrifying massacre which they had just carried out in the port granary. Over the silence that had just reigned, the sounds of waves crashing rhythmically against the shore could be heard.

Every man had a different way of dealing with the sight, smells and sounds of death – there were those who kicked the dead bodies viciously and spat on them, or threw their head backs and laughed hysterically from sudden relief. There were those who stared into nothingness in shock, while there were those who had developed a mental immunity to such gruesome scenes.

Sesshoumaru no longer knew if it was a blessing or a curse to fall into the final category.

He had thought he would feel something, and had actually wished for himself to feel an ounce of guilt or shock or anything negative. Even if his feelings were nothing negative, it would be _human_ to feel a sense of overwhelming satisfaction at having avenged the men he called 'brothers', or even feel blood lust.

Blood rain, morbid in its crimson metallic warmth, had just fallen in Shanghai.

Yet he felt nothing, as if he was merely a puppet manipulated by Fate to carry out its morbid wishes.

He did not know how to react to this. All he knew was how Naraku would definitely look him up soon. They had too many scores to settle.

"Let's go."

_

* * *

To be continued…_


	9. Kagome's Future, Sesshoumaru's History

Standard disclaimers apply.

A/N: Thank you for all the kind reviews you guys have left for the earlier chapter. It's very rewarding to know that some of you genuinely enjoy and anticipate updates to the story, and I've made this extra long for you.

I've actually received a couple of not-so-friendly PMs on with regards to the delay in updates, with one of them saying things like, "I think this story is pretty decent but I'd give it 3 out of 10 because you don't update soon enough. Update soon." The person doesn't review the story (except for saying it's 'decent') and yet took the time to PM me something like that.

It's hurtful, especially when I've been putting in so much effort for this story to make it an exciting and informative read. There is a major plot twist ahead, and you'll soon see the amount of effort I put into researching and reading up on the topic. But alas, it's worth 3 out of 10. Oh well.

But for the rest, thank you for your constant support! I hope you enjoy this.

**~Shanghai~**

* * *

"Did you hear the terrifying incident that happened near the port? I still can't believe it!" Sango exclaimed, and Ayame nodded eagerly in agreement, while Megumi's face scrunched up in a grimace as she shuddered.

"What incident?" Kagome asked through small bites of her rice dumpling, more preoccupied with preventing the black sesame filling from spilling over into the soup. The girls were gathered at Megumi's humble home for sweet soup, and would be going over to Golden Phoenix Lounge together in the late afternoon.

"You mean you haven't heard of it?" Megumi asked incredulously, before walking over to her youngest son, picking the wailing toddler up and rocking him in her arms. "There was a clash between the Green Gang and some other Japanese gang in one of the granaries by the port."

The words 'Japanese gang' echoed deeply within her mind, and though she had thought herself to be immune to it, Kagome nonetheless thought of a certain Japanese man who happened to be part of the mafia.

"What happened then?" She was quick to ask, studying Megumi's face intently.

The sudden interest in the matter displayed by the younger girl brought a strange frown to Megumi's foxy face, and she simply shrugged while shushing her toddler. "Well, there were a lot of deaths, and blood was everywhere. The bodies were discovered in the morning by the coolies who were preparing to take the rice and wheat out for shipment. There were approximately twenty bodies if I am not mistaken. Vicious, eh?"

Her blood ran cold, and her mouth felt oddly parched. _Twenty bodies…_she shuddered involuntarily.

"Do you know who died?" Kagome asked almost immediately, forgetting just how strange and uncalled for her question was. "Members of the Green Gang or the Japanese gang?"

"The Green Gang," Ayame added, nodding seriously. "At least, that's what I heard from my neighbors. They were caught unaware, apparently, and all the casualties were members of the Green Gang."

"Oh…" Kagome breathed softly, feeling the rapid thumping of her heart slowing down into its usual rhythm. "Oh."

"Why do you seem so worried anyway? Is anything wrong?" Sango asked, studying Kagome with her brows knitted. "It's not as if we would know any of those people. They belong to a completely different world, despite living in the same land."

"Triads are dangerous business…"Ayame mused, swallowing what remained of her rice dumpling. "Once in, there is no way you're going to come out clean."

"Yes, I agree." Megumi placed her youngest son back onto the bed, before glaring for her older children to stop teasing the teary toddler. "It's best to keep out of their way. Devils, all of them! Vicious and ruthless. They are capable of doing anything, especially the Japanese. I am just thankful for the fact that no matter how crappy Sano had been, he had never once ventured into the underworld triads. He was merely a street gangster who was more bark than bite."

Ayame and Sango laughed at Megumi's humorous optimism, while Kagome remained stonily silent, reflecting on the girls' words.

_Triads are dangerous business…_

_Devils, all of them!_

_They belong to a completely different world, despite living in the same land._

She wanted to nod in agreement, for it was true to some extent, but at the same time, Kagome wanted to deny everything they had said. Was it normal to be so conflicting on the inside? But then again, it was not as if she had imagined everything – truth was, _he_ had shown her that he was capable of tenderness, humor, unhappiness despite his identity. He was not merely a cruel, heartless, unfeeling devil.

But then again, there was no point in thinking too much about him; she did not even know if he belonged to _that_ particular Japanese gang people were talking about. He could be back in Japan for all she knew. He could still be in China. He might even be dead.

"A-Lee? A-Lee!"

Kagome jerked from her reverie, before smiling apologetically at Ayame, who was looking at her with an expression of disbelief and the faintest hint of suspicion.

"Are you alright?" Sango asked concernedly, placing a hand on Kagome's arm as the girl tried to smile brightly to dispel her friends' doubts.

"I am fine, don't worry! I was only…thinking…" Kagome hurriedly assured. "It's just that…I am a little unsettled…"

"You don't have to be afraid, you know." Megumi commented with a casual wave of her slender hand. "After all, it's not as if you'll ever be involved with any of those creatures. We are decent people making a decent living. There's nothing to fear."

"Mm-hm, Xiao Hui (Megumi) is right. You don't have to worry; they wouldn't have anything to gain from harming common folk like us anyway." Ayame added, before the nonchalance disappeared from her face to be replaced by a genuine, excited smile. "I've heard from Mrs. Wang about your big break in the entertainment scene! How are things going?"

Kagome laughed at Ayame's obvious excitement, before shrugging. "I have no idea, really. Honestly, I don't see it as a 'big break in the entertainment scene'…I have never wanted to become a starlet or a singer with a recording label. All I want is the experience of performing in public…just once would be good enough for me, and I am actually very contented with working at Golden Phoenix Lounge."

"Of course! Look at the wonderful colleagues and the skillful makeup artist you have." Megumi commented with a cheeky smile as she complimented herself indirectly, eliciting laughter throughout.

"I'd hate to leave you guys for Peking," Kagome replied, before exhaling audibly, clearly perplexed. "Mr. Naraku is being so thoughtful and patient with me, and I feel bad for being so wishy-washy. Peking is rather far away, and I have to be there throughout the winter, and to perform in front of so many prominent individuals…it's just too sudden."

"Maybe all you need is some time to think about it?" Sango added helpfully. "After all, singing publicly is something you've always dreamed of."

Kagome nodded. "But Mrs. Wang and Mr. Naraku are always telling me how I can make it big and get a contract if some prominent person noticed me…that's not what I want. I only wish to sing, but I don't really care for the fame and glamour..."

Kagome had always been drawn to the bright lights and liveliness of the entertainment areas ever since she was a child, but even so, she was well aware that what she truly wanted was to perform and enjoy doing so. Being famous, receiving endorsements, appearing on commercials and movie screens had never been her wish. She was happy with the way her life was. The idea of going to Peking was very attractive, but she was nonetheless more inclined towards turning the offer down.

"I get what you mean. Performing in the public is something you've always wished to do, but suddenly, the offer came with more than that, and it is scaring you." Megumi concluded sagely, before turning to her children.

"Exactly!" Kagome exclaimed, clapping her hands together before pointing at the makeup artist. "That's exactly how I feel about this entire thing. It's a little too…overwhelming."

"Hmm…well, if you don't like the idea of it, you can always reject the Japanese businessman's offer." Sango advised, nodding encouragingly at Kagome. "He has been nice enough to give you an option, so you can make a decision."

"Besides, we'll all miss you if you go to Peking." Ayame added.

With the kind words of her friends running through her mind, Kagome quietly finished the rest of her rice dumplings, coming to a firm decision when her porcelain spoon came into contact with the bottom of the bowl.

Later, when Kagome was helping Megumi with washing the pot and bowls, she had once again been caught by surprise when the older lady asked casually.

"You don't wish to go to Peking because you're waiting, aren't you?"

"Waiting for?" Kagome had a vague idea as to what Megumi was implying, but was nonetheless reluctant to jump to conclusions in any way.

Megumi gave her a rather withering look which blatantly told her to drop the clueless façade, before adding, "That man. Whoever he is."

"Ah." Kagome could not think of a wiser response to her friend's statement, and instead, became oddly fascinated with the soapsuds clinging onto her wet hands as she continued scrubbing at the sticky starch bits at the bottom of the pot.

"Are you?"

Kagome should have seen it coming; Megumi had never been one to give up easily.

"Perhaps. I don't know. I don't really care any more." She replied. "Thinking about him makes me miserable."

Megumi laughed lightly, tossing her midnight black hair over her shoulder. "Now, allow me to teach you something new."

"What is it?"

"Don't you know that the only man who can give you happiness is the one who can also cause you misery?" Megumi said wisely, though her sultry voice was light and flighty like her apparent attitude. "If you didn't care about him, you wouldn't be so miserable…"

The streets of Shanghai were still as noisy and lively as ever as the common folk went about their daily activities, even though it was getting colder and colder as winter started to announce its impending visit. There was no trace of any uneasiness or fear among the people, even though the news of the gruesome blood rain which had taken place near the port was spreading through the city like wild fire.

Shoving his hands deeper in the pockets of his coat, Sesshoumaru pulled his hat lower to conceal his face, determined to draw as little attention to himself as he possibly could. His long, silver ponytail was tucked underneath the heavy trench coat he was wearing, and to most people on the street, he looked no different from the businessmen and upper-class merchants walking out from posh restaurants and luxurious boutiques and Western-influenced stores.

Discreetly, he double-checked the address scribbled on the scrap of paper in his hands, before coming to a stop at the mouth of a dark passageway which led deep into the interior of an old shop house. Casting sideward glances to ensure he was not being tailed or seen entering such a place, Sesshoumaru stepped soundlessly within the shadows, trying not to breathe the musty, foul air of the interior too deeply.

Sesshoumaru ran up the flights of steps in the old shop house two steps at a time, before coming to the third level of the shop house were there were four separate rooms. Heading straight for the second one from the far end, he knocked on the door raptly with his knuckles. Three times he knocked, before pausing for approximately five seconds, and knocking three times again. Squatting down on the mosaic-tiled flooring, he slipped the piece of paper with the address written on it through the tiny gap between the door and the floor, watching it disappear as someone pulled the rest of it through.

A heavily Kyoto-accented voice, sinister in how powerful it sounded underneath calmness, recited from the other side of the door. "_Shocking, the red of lacquered fingernails…_"

"…_against a white chrysanthemum_." He replied as if bored, staring at the owner of the sing-song voice as the wooden door gradually creaked open. The rush of pungent cigarette smoke which assaulted his senses announced the presence of another familiar individual within the room.

"Ahh, Sesshoumaru. I'm glad you're lookin' well." A tall, almost skinny, man greeted him with an enthusiastic wave and a smile that did not quite reach his slit eyes. His skin was pale, though not quite as pale as Sesshoumaru's, and his short silver hair was almost soft lavender in the dim lighting. "C'mon in."

"Ichimaru Gin." Sesshoumaru acknowledged coldly, though the chill within his voice did not seem to affect the ever-smiley man. "You would have to cease using chrysanthemum or wine-themed haikus for pass codes. It's almost getting obvious."

"Can't help missin' my lovely Rangiku," Gin shrugged, obviously still not quite bothered by Sesshoumaru's words. After all, it was well-known among the few of them that the skinny fox-faced Japanese man missed his childhood sweetheart dearly, especially now that they were all in Shanghai for work. Her name contained the character 'kiku', which meant 'chrysanthemum', and Gin had a most annoying manner of linking everything chrysanthemum-related to the woman.

"Take a seat, Nishikawa Sesshoumaru." The same annoying voice with whom he had been corresponding over the phone reached his ears.

"Saitou Hajime." He acknowledged, pulling a chair out to seat himself comfortably at the wooden table where two men were already seated. "Himura Kenshin."

"It's been a while. This humble one is glad to see that you're well. Tea for you, Sesshoumaru-san?" The red-head named Himura Kenshin asked with his usual amicable smile, unflinching in the face of Sesshoumaru's stoicism, Gin's smiley creepiness and Saitou's perpetual disgruntlement.

Nodding in a sign of gratitude, Sesshoumaru turned to face the uniformed policeman sitting at the end of the rectangular table. This was the only place, or rather; these people were the only ones he could truly relax around. They were in the same boat, and that made them the only people who were capable of understanding the grayish life he led. "There are new orders?"

"Hn. Do you have time to spare, Demon Dog? Did your men discover you missing?" Saitou smirked, pulling his cigarette out of his mouth to exhale a stream of tobacco-scented smoke. The four men seated at the table definitely made a very interesting sight – there was a uniformed police officer, a mafia section leader, a butler and a hard laborer.

Sesshoumaru smirked languidly. "They think I'm still fucking some whore in the brothel, and wouldn't be going back to the casino until four."

A snicker escaped his fox-faced colleague, and Sesshoumaru turned in the former's direction with his brows raised questioningly. "I'm inclined to think that such activities were reserved for the night."

"Hn. Anytime, anywhere." Sesshoumaru smirked in reply, catching the way Saitou had rolled his eyes before drawing a long, appreciative drag on his cigarette.

"Ahh, I should have guessed, eh? Perks of being single." Gin smiled, and though it was probably sincere, the upturn of his lips nonetheless looked sinister. "Lovely Shanghai, synonymous with pleasure, power and money."

"Oi. Cut that crap for now, _team_." Saitou interrupted coolly, before turning to look at the three men. "We'll start with Nishikawa then. Do you have anything to report?"

"We clashed with the Green Gang last night, and there were twenty casualties, all on their side." Sesshoumaru dutifully recounted. "Undoubtedly, Naraku would be lured out into retaliating, partly due to the humiliation of being attacked and also, to express his displeasure with me for having struck a deal with the merchant Zhao initially. As you might know, Zhao's death was a blessing in disguise for both Naraku and us. That's when we'll be attempting to strike a new deal in opium supply with Naraku for the casino. With that, it will be easier to gain his trust, and from there, I'll get more information with regards to his dealings with the Dutch and the British to find out if he has plans to bring opium into Japan."

"What about your other task, _brainwasher?_" Saitou asked, not tearing his eyes away from the paper on which he was scribbling away. His sneer was still very much fixed in place; it was almost unbelievable how this man could look perpetually peeved.

"I'm working on it. It will be done."

"Hn. Ichimaru. Your turn." The uniformed policeman lifted his chin in the silver-haired butler's direction.

After Sesshoumaru was done with recounting the events and providing his colleagues with information, he felt a load lift off his shoulders, granting his mind and body's silent pleas for a few moments of peace. Silently observing the unreadable faces of the men around him, Sesshoumaru could make out the undeniable strains of tiredness within their features, accompanied by determination and immeasurable mental strength.

Their faces reflected his; after all, they were all in this together. He had been working with them for so long, and even though they were never given the opportunity to bond like best buddies, each knew very well that no one could ever understand him like the other three men could. They were dwellers in the gray areas between black and white. Sesshoumaru had always wondered to himself why they had chosen to take this path of no return like he did, but had never felt compelled enough to question.

After all, there was nothing much to ask.

They were all members of the Kempeitai, the military police arm of the Imperial Japanese Army and the Imperial Japanese Navy.

Serving in the Tokko (Special Higher Police) department's tokumu-han (Special Duties/Intelligence Division), Saitou Hajime, Nishikawa Sesshoumaru, Himura Kenshin and Ichimaru Gin were in the elite espionage program as intelligence officers providing vital economic, social and political data. Loyalty to the Emperor and the country was an understatement, and each man played a different but essential role in fulfilling their nation's destined plans by contributing intelligence reports to the Imperial High Command, even though Sesshoumaru had to admit that there were times when he had inevitably lost sight of the greater agenda.

Over a decade of being in the secret service for the Imperial Japanese Army had molded him into a man who was no longer capable of taking anything at face value, and no longer able to believe too deeply in humanity. He had gone too far to stop, and even if he were to stop in his tracks on the path he had taken, there was no turning back. He knew too much to leave, and being in such a situation simply pointed to one solution – he had to keep walking. There was no alternative to it.

Every moment simply added a darker tinge to his tainted soul, removing every sliver of light there was. Gone was the innocent orphan who had walked away tearlessly from the raging fire carrying his wounded little brother Inuyasha on his back. Sesshoumaru did not know if it was a blessing for him to have met a teenage Saitou Hajime on that fateful night. At seven years his senior, Saitou was already a uniformed member of the Kempeitai, belonging to the Keimu-han (Police and Security department) at that time.

What happened next was a period of painful history which transformed the little boy into a machine capable of detaching his thoughts and emotions from his physical shell at will, suppressing his feelings at the expense of his conscience and regarding certain situations as if he was not present in person. He learned to torture and kill; he learned to inflict excruciating pain in exchange for precious information as if the physical agony was currency. At an age too tender for a world as dark and treacherous as the one he had plunged into, it was often not his concern if what he had been doing had a purpose. So what if the information painstakingly extracted via torture was inaccurate? It was not his concern; his job was to extract it, and that was what he would see to.

Rigorous and almost inhumane training saw to it that Sesshoumaru learned to mask his emotions, and forget how it felt like to shed tears. He grew not to sympathize with others, for when he was at his most desperate, he had not received sympathy. As he grew older, he learned to coax information out of a man and manipulate other individuals to his personal advantage. If they did not comply, he would torture them until they caved in, or as some of the men said, _mind fuck_ them till they could not think straight. He was taught that no matter how strong a man seemed; there would always be a weakness he could exploit, and a limit to break.

There was no need to feel remorseful in any way – he was doing it for survival. He was doing it for his brother's survival. There was no turning back.

Just like him, Inuyasha had joined the Police and Security department at the same time and no matter what had happened, they still had each other. Yet the younger sibling never got to know what the higher-ups had in mind for his older brother; all he knew was how Sesshoumaru had often been taken away for training sessions to which he was not allowed to follow. Inquisitive and concerned, the young boy had questioned his older brother repeatedly on the details of the so-called 'training sessions'. Sometimes Sesshoumaru returned unscathed but eerily silent, sometimes soaking wet and shivering and sometimes with bruises and lashes all over his back.

Inuyasha must have started to hate him from then, Sesshoumaru realized. The boy had been very concerned, but as an older brother, he had always refrained from revealing a single word of his activities. Then one day, unbeknownst to Inuyasha, Sesshoumaru was accepted into the highly prestigious but confidential Intelligence Department. That was when he had to ditch his official identity as a uniformed Kempei and join a mafia gang as a junior member to collect information on the secret societies' links with foreign organizations and forge intelligence networks. He worked his way up the ranks in the triads, impressing the elder leaders with his tendency to remain level-headed in the most precarious situations and his uncanny ability to terminate the life of another man without hesitation or fear.

Having witnessed all these, Inuyasha got the impression that Sesshoumaru had betrayed the Imperial police force to serve the underworld triads, and had openly voiced out his hatred and despise for his older brother for doing so. Furious, yet in denial out of brotherly love, Inuyasha had confronted Sesshoumaru, only to be told that the latter had indeed joined the underworld triads.

Then the younger brother had never spoken to Sesshoumaru again, claiming that he would rather lose a brother than acknowledge a traitor. Sesshoumaru thought he wouldn't care in the least, but he did. Deep down within his heart, he knew he minded how Inuyasha viewed him. He used to be Inuyasha's hero, and it was on the nights when he felt most lonesome did mental images of his little brother prattling and following him everywhere come to his mind.

But still, he had jumped into the dark realms willingly. Even if he were to quit being an undercover intelligence officer, he would never be 'white' again. Too tainted was that soul of his, to the point of no salvation. His mind was filled with too many horrifyingly gruesome scenes of brutal torture and deaths; his hands were stained with the blood of too many men.

It might seem cruel to some, but Sesshoumaru thought otherwise. If one never killed a man before, killing might seem brutal. If one had killed once, he might vow never to do it again. But if one had killed countless of men and heard hysterical curses and screams over and over again, killing was practically a routine. It would teach those people to disrespect the Great Japan and the honorable, superior Kempeitai officers like himself.

Yet at times, he would allow his imagination to take him away from reality. He would merely fulfill his personal tasks and block the greater nationalistic agenda from his mind, trying to forget the perpetual weight that rested on his shoulders so heavily. He would ensure that he had none of those weaknesses others could exploit.

He did not know if it was a good or a bad thing to do, but there were times when he would simply immerse himself in the dark side to his life, where he was not Nishikawa Sesshoumaru but 'Demon Dog'. There, he was a ruthless, unfeeling mafia section leader who struck fear in the hearts of all who heard his nickname. Yet in reality, he was assigned the task of instilling ultranationalist beliefs into the extensive underworld societies' networks, slowly morphing them into intelligence channels with his ability of infiltrating minds. It was because of this ability that subsequently put Sesshoumaru in the Propaganda and Indoctrination Department of the Kempeitai's intelligence section.

The deeper he fell into the dark realm that was his life, the more he knew he should not ever forge close emotional ties with anyone. Sesshoumaru had always been a loner; he was not like the other men in the room, who all had loved ones awaiting their return in Japan. Ichimaru Gin had a childhood sweetheart named Rangiku, Himura Kenshin was planning to go home and marry the second love of his life, Kaoru. Even Saitou Hajime, the living epitome of the phrase 'commitment-phobic', was married to an undoubtedly extraordinary woman named Tokio.

He was the only one who was single, with barely any familial ties except for an estranged brother who refused to acknowledge him. There was no meaning in forging close ties with anyone; they were weaknesses which would eventually impede him. The horizons of his career knew no bounds, and he had all the potential and capability to go as far as he could.

That was also the reason why he had volunteered to go undercover as a mafia boss, which would place him in potentially greater danger in comparison to his team members. Gin was going undercover as a butler at the home of a British shipping magnate, while Kenshin was working at the port as a hard laborer, or 'coolie' as everyone termed these men so as to have easy access to the 'goods' which were being exported to Japan. Saitou, on the other hand, was fulfilling duties as a uniformed police officer on the surface, so as to be able to track his team's locations and actions, and also, provide them with official aid should the need arise.

"…so I've enough reasons to believe Naraku is plannin' to ship somethin' over to Japan soon." Gin added, grinning away as he tilted his head to the side in a bid to stretch his neck muscles. Bony fingers hooked themselves into the stiff collar of his butler uniform, tugging downwards to make the garment more comfortable. "Ahhh…stiff collars. I hate 'em. But oh, whether it is opium or not, I don't know."

Something flashed within the violet eyes of the man named Himura Kenshin, and he sat forward in his chair. "Now that Gin-san has mentioned it, in my last attempt to sabotage the suspected opium shipment to Okinawa, I overheard Naraku's men talking as they loaded crates along with the burlap sacks onto the ship."

"Crates, huh?" Gin continued grinning like the Cheshire cat, evidently interested in what Kenshin had to report. "Firearms?"

"That was what I had initially suspected," The red-headed Kempeitai officer, dressed in the tattered clothing of a hard laborer working at the port, nodded. "But the sealed crates were much larger than what would have been used to smuggle firearms or even say, gold, ivory or jade."

"How big were they?" Saitou asked, frowning while studying the red-head intently.

"Big enough to contain someone my size." Kenshin continued, spreading his arms to outline dimensions. "I thought it might even be…say, statues, antiques or artifacts, until I vaguely heard a groan and a kick against the wood from within the crate. My head turned in the direction of the sound, but one of the men shoved me to the ground. I wanted to check on the crates, but I didn't get the chance to, because there were practically eight men standing by ten crates."

Saitou tapped his pen slowly against the table. "Hm…"

Kenshin's features darkened, and all caught a flash of the blood-thirsty killer which usually remained dormant within the kind, cordial soul. "The shipment was bound for Japan, and I am suspecting-"

"Human trafficking." The uniformed police officer completed the sentence, raising his eyebrows in a subdued expression of acknowledgement.

Kenshin nodded slowly, and added. "The groan sounded feminine."

Despite having just reassured himself of how he had no loved ones to worry about like the rest of the men did, Sesshoumaru couldn't deny the sinking feeling within his chest at the sound of the words 'human trafficking'. Naraku's face came immediately to his mind, and that brought flashbacks of the night he had seen Kagome laughing with the vile creature. Sesshoumaru tried to suppress the rising suspicions that came with the swift, logical thinking he had been trained in, but try as he might, he knew there was a lot more to it than met the eye.

It wasn't as if he did not care for Kagome; he wasn't immature to the extent of denying that he was more concerned for this woman than he had ever been for any other female. She had come to him like a fairy descended from the heavens when he thought he was going to die for sure, and had carefully nursed him back to health despite not knowing who he was and what he did for a living. Now, Himura Kenshin and Saitou Hajime had raised the possibility of Naraku trafficking females from China to Japan, undoubtedly to sell them into the sex trade. If he followed this line of thinking, then it was growing to be as clear as day – Kagome was in potential danger.

"We have no concrete evidence as of now, so follow up closely on this." Saitou concluded as the others nodded in agreement. "Human trafficking is a serious issue, but as we all know Naraku, dabbling in human trafficking is probably nothing but another means of making money for him. Our aim, ultimately, is to find out if Naraku is working closely with foreign organizations, intelligence units or even, certain influential individuals. But there's something much more important on the agenda for today."

Pulling a thin folded stack of documents out from inside his blazer, Saitou passed it to Himura Kenshin, who promptly started to skim through the words.

"The South Seas conquest strategies are well underway, and we have to tilt the political balance in favor of Japan. Inadequate strategies employed during the Russian-Japanese incidents are being revised and analyzed by the other intelligence agencies." Saitou revealed, and three pairs of eyes narrowed as it dawned upon them what the lanky, wolfish man was talking about.

"Surely, you don't mean-" Gin was sitting up straight in his chair, grinning even more sinisterly. His facial expression was as unpredictable as always, but body language revealed his burning interest in what the team leader had to say.

"I've received news from the headquarters. The plan is to invade Shanghai by 1932." Saitou announced in a low whisper, though the news came with a small frown. "But we would need to work harder."

"What do you mean?" Sesshoumaru asked coolly, shoving the worries of Kagome's well-being to the back of his mind for now. It was common knowledge among the higher-ranking members of the Kempeitai that an invasion of Shanghai was inevitable, but he had not expected it to be so soon.

"The Westerners have too many extraterritorial concessions in China, especially Shanghai, which is a prime location. We cannot afford to lose our foothold in this region of the world. We have to exert our influence, and the means to do so is via military action. The northeastern region of China would sooner or later belong to Japan, but what good is having control over vast amounts of unimportant territory?"

"So you're saying we have to justify the military action in front of the international community." Sesshoumaru added, casting Saitou a composed gaze. "It is necessary to provide a casus belli."

A smirk formed on Saitou's thin lips. "Spot on, Sesshoumaru."

"Ahhh, wreaking havoc! How delightful…" Gin exclaimed in his sing-song Kyoto accent, rubbing his hands together in feigned childish excitement. It was too obvious to the highly astute intelligence officers by now that the aim of this secret meeting was to instruct them to work on instigating seemingly anti-Japanese sentiments among the local Chinese population so as to create justification for further, if not extensive, military action.

"My, my, Gin-san," Kenshin shook his head in amused exasperation at the lanky, silver-haired fox's reaction. "Try not to hurt too many innocent folks."

"Oh, you wound me with your words, Himura-san." Gin feigned hurt, reminding all the others just how unpredictable and unreadable he was. "Since when had I been cruel to anyone who didn't deserve it?"

Saitou snickered upon hearing that, and Kenshin simply shook his head harder in amusement and mock exasperation. Gin was pretty much the liveliest team member among the four of them, and though they knew very well that the seemingly harmless and almost childishly endearing façade was nothing more than a mask, it was nonetheless entertaining to have him around. Saitou was too busy smoking cigarettes and being disgruntled with life in general; Kenshin was a great guy but unfortunately, nice to the extent of bordering on being dull at times. Sesshoumaru was…well, it wouldn't have made much of a difference if he wasn't there.

"Oh dear, it's time for me to go back! I have to see to it that tea is prepared for Mr. Moller and his lovely family." Gin announced with a flourish, standing up in his seat before sauntering to the door. "Aaah, I might just consider a career change. It so seems that I'm pretty talented at carrying out domestic duties."

"My doors will always be open if you wish to do some housekeeping, Ichimaru. I'll contact you again." Saitou said without an upward glance from his documents, before adding, "We're done for today."

As if someone had switched something off in his mind, Sesshoumaru allowed it to drift away to where his heart was intent on wondering about.

Strains of the songs she had sung ricocheted in his mind, and Kagome's smiling visage materialized in the recesses of his memories. She had smiled so much during the period of time when he had been recuperating in her home, and he wondered if she was smiling as much these days. He tried to convince himself she was leading a fruitful and carefree life; after all, Kagome did seem to be rather enthusiastic when she had been interacting with Naraku.

Yet Sesshoumaru could not find it within himself to continue lying. The next mental image which came to mind along with the recollection of Himura Kenshin's words was not a pleasant one. He saw Kagome gagged and bound, with bruises on her face as burly men threw her almost effortlessly into a wooden crate bound for shipment. In his mind, she had tried to fight their hold, but was too frail to do anything about it for she had been heavily drugged to ensure absolute compliance.

"_Oi_."

She was all alone, frightened and helpless with no clue of what lay in store for her. That mental image made Sesshoumaru's jaw clench, and the next one made his hands clench into tight, white-knuckled fists. He saw her drugged continuously at regular time intervals, lying limply on a tattered bed as she was raped repeatedly by faceless men, while their maniacal laughter and perverse grunts of pleasure filled the musty air that reeked of sex-

"Oi, Nishikawa Sesshoumaru. Are you bloody deaf?"

The horrifying mental images were instantly replaced by a nervous, black blank. "Hm?"

"Who saved you?" Saitou's question was direct, going straight to the point as always. Kenshin had already left, and they were the only ones left in the room. "Are you daydreaming, for goodness' sake?"

There was a split second of hesitation on Sesshoumaru's part, but he knew better than to reveal any further reluctance in answering Saitou. The man was more experienced than he was in the intelligence service, and was equally, if not more, astute in his observations of human actions and body language.

"A local girl." He remarked as casually as he could manage it, bending down as if interested in removing a piece of imaginary gravel from his shoe. "And her younger brother."

"Did you do the usual?"

'Doing the usual'…how easily Saitou had said that. For them, the so-called 'usual' procedure meant silencing the ones who had come to know of their true identities. He had deliberately lied that Shippo was Kagome's younger brother, just in case Saitou decided to run a search for his saviors. The man would probably start looking into households with at least two children, and that would throw the search off course.

"No."

"No?" Saitou repeated, almost incredulous if not for the firm control he always had over his own emotions.

"They are not aware." Sesshoumaru said simply, as if that was sufficient to justify everything. "I couldn't speak Chinese, and neither could they understand Japanese."

"Right."

Sesshoumaru remained silent.

Pinning the silver-haired man with a slightly suspicious glance, Saitou asked again. "Are you sure of that?"

"Yes."

_To be continued…_


	10. Frozen Reunion

Standard disclaimers apply.

A/N: Thank you for the very kind and sweet reviews on the previous chapter of 'Shanghai'! The historical research almost killed me, but I love reading up on history and to create a fanfic based on real historical events is a very challenging and refreshing experience.

This chapter is for all of you who have wished for a reunion between Sesshoumaru and Kagome, and here it is! But don't smack me for how it turned out at the end! *runs away and hides behind a wall*

Special thanks to **Belladonna Snow **for your awesome review! You made me blush with your kind words :)

* * *

"_I can't forget the forlornness of the night, and neither can I forget the worries that came with the blooming of the flowers."_

Kagome hummed and sang fragments of the song which she had performed earlier, wrapping her fur coat tighter around herself as she stepped onto the chilly alleys of Shanghai. Winter had come back to visit the land, and while it barely snowed in Shanghai, the surroundings were nonetheless cold due to the moist city air. But thankfully, the brick walls and enclosed alleys did not allow the wintry winds to sweep through, hence sparing her the agony of trudging home in the bitter cold.

The clicking of her heels against the freezing stone paths formed a quiet, melancholic rhythm which echoed down the long alley, giving her voice a tranquil, ethereal quality. But unlike the first time she had sung the song during rehearsal, Kagome realized she could now sing it without dissolving into a quivering mess.

Time really had a wondrous way of alleviating pain, she mused as she continued her slow walk home. Her day had gone smoothly, and the Japanese businessman Nai Luo (Naraku) had given her a very generous tip for her performance of the song 'Rose, rose', claiming that he had never heard anyone perform like she did. Smiling in contentment, Kagome decided she would buy some Dragon's Beard Candy from the roadside stalls for Shippo for supper with the extra money.

Kagome had not accepted Mr. Naraku's offer to sponsor her to go to Peking for the charity gala performance, but after the talk with Sango and the girls, she had more or less made up her mind. She would probably turn the offer down, for going to Peking might mean an endless road in the entertainment scene for her, and the multitude of possibilities meant that she might be in constant uncertainty. She was not being very ambitious, but then again, Kagome figured she would rather be content with the present than hope for the future.

Her friends were here, and her aunt was here. Even though she was born in Guangzhou, Kagome had spent her teenage years in Shanghai, and this place was where her heart would always lie.

On top of all that, she was holding on to the hope that he might reappear.

The thought sounded stupid even to herself. Didn't she just decide not to go to Peking because of how uncertain the future might be?

Yet she was waiting here in Shanghai, even though she was uncertain if he might ever return.

She walked slowly along the dirty, silent alley, singing softly as she watched her warm breath form little clouds in the night air. _"The lonely long alleyway is now clearly illuminated by the slanted beams of moonlight…"_

This was what she truly loved; singing for the sake of singing. No glamorous lights, camera shutters or entertainment dinners with prominent figures. It was simply singing.

The song died instantly on her lips as she turned round the corner, when she caught sight of a familiar yet distant figure leaning against the mossy brick wall of the alley. Her eyes widened involuntarily, and all she could not stop the plummeting sensation of her heart within her chest. It was dark, but she could recognize that form anywhere. Reaching out with a hand to steady herself, she drew in quick, frenzied breaths of the frosty air, wondering incoherently if she should turn back or continue standing there like a statue.

Dressed in a Western business suit with bold glen plaits and wider trouser bottoms, complete with a black double-breasted trench coat, he looked every bit the epitome of masculine elegance as he leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. His moonshine tresses, tied in a low ponytail, flew with every gust of wintry wind which had managed to find its way into the alley. It gave him an ethereal touch which made him so breathtakingly handsome yet so painful to look at the same time.

Kagome's heart was drowning in a mixture of raging emotions – there was fury, sorrow, loneliness, a sense of having been betrayed and, god forbid, a tiny bit of joy. The happiness and elation shone through the thick, inky darkness like a ray of sunshine, but Kagome was quick to snuff it out with her rationality. There was no meaning in being nice to this man.

She hated him, didn't she? Then she would continue to hate him.

Discreetly, she tried to turn around to walk away from this impending disaster, only to realize that she could not bring herself to take another step.

Anger grew when she realized that she could not even leave, now that she had seen him. If she just left like that, she might never meet him again. It was ironic how her mind could be so conflicting; she had been longing to see him again after he had left wordlessly, but now that she had seen him for herself, Kagome was at a loss for what to do.

But he was a jerk; he was a heartless creep. She had sincerely offered her friendship and sincerity only to have it tossed aside and trampled all over with a wordless farewell and two pathetic words scribbled on a piece of paper. Kagome was kind and helpful, but she was no pushover.

Why did he have to come back _after_ she had managed to convince herself that she didn't need to see him anymore?

Determinedly, she took a step in the opposite direction. Another step, and another she took, putting more and more distance between the two of them. A little bit more, her mind chanted, just a few more steps.

"Wo you hua dui ni shuo. (I have something to tell you)" His voice, the deep sinful baritone, trapped her like an incantation. Shivers shot up the length of her spine, and Kagome was quite sure if was not the cold. If he had been speaking in Japanese, she could pretend not to have understood anything. But he had said it in perfect Chinese, albeit accented, and had effectively taken her excuse away.

She stood rooted to the ground, before a rush of determination to leave washed over her again. Striding forward as quickly as her high heels and figure-hugging cheongsam could allow, Kagome could clearly hear his rushed footsteps from being her. She hastened her footsteps, though she knew it was futile.

"Kagome. Wo…(Kagome, I…)" He started in Chinese, but most probably had no idea how to continue speaking in the foreign language. With a frustration sigh, he replaced the stoic mask on his visage, settling for speaking in his own tongue. "Kike, iitai koto ga aru. Naraku to Peking ni ikanai de. (Listen, I have something I want to tell you. Don't go to Peking with Naraku.)"

"Dui bu qi. Wo ting bu dong ri wen. (Sorry. I don't understand Japanese.)" She stopped dead in her tracks and turned to stare directly at him, voicing every Chinese syllable clearly. Her eyes were uncharacteristically blank, as if he was merely a stranger who had asked her for directions. He had always been a very astute observer of human emotions, but he could catch none from her. There were no emotions within her eyes – no happiness, no sadness, no anger…nothing.

For a few seconds, silence hung heavily between the two of them. It was as frosty as the surroundings, and the chill was quickly creeping into their hearts. He returned her stare, watching her blank gaze falter, crumbling bit by bit like a sandcastle attacked by rolling waves under the pressure of his intense gaze. The deliberately blank pools of taupe revealed the growing presence of uneasiness, and he could tell from her body language that she was eager to evade. Intimidating her had never been his intention, and he dipped his head with an inaudible sigh, cutting the eye contact between them.

It was not easy looking at her; life and reality had not tainted those mesmerizing eyes of hers, and the purity within those orbs seemed to be a mocking reflection of how dark and cursed his soul was. She was hauntingly beautiful as he had remembered her to be, dressed in a midnight blue cheongsam with gold bamboo motifs. A golden chrysanthemum was tucked elegantly behind her ear, contrasting stunningly against her ebony tresses, which were braided and twisted neatly into a tight bun secured at the side of her head.

"Aitsu ni damasaretanda! Kouen no tame ni Peking ni iku nante…are wa uso da. (You were cheated by that guy! Going to Peking for a public performance…that's nothing but a lie.)" Sesshoumaru continued, feeling more desperate than ever inwardly as Kagome regarded him with narrowed eyes and mounting exasperation.

"Dou shuo wo ting bu dong le. (I've already said I don't understand a word of Japanese)" She said somewhat resignedly, as if she too, realized that the language barrier between them was going to lead to nowhere. It was her naivety in the past that had convinced her that such cultural and language differences were nothing. But they were something, no matter what she tried to say about it. "Qing ni bie chan zhe wo. (Please don't pester me)"

She did not know what he had to say to her, but Kagome decided that she could do without knowing it. After all, his affairs had nothing to do with her, and neither did hers have anything to do with him. It was already frustrating enough for her to have him appear out of the blue, and she could not help feeling even more exasperated when he continued speaking in Japanese, as if desperate for her to listen. He had never been a talkative person to begin with; why was he talking on and on right now?

_Go away, Sesshoumaru. Don't mess with my heart and mind again…_She prayed inwardly. _I've had a hard time piecing the bits together._

"Can you just give me some time to explain things to you?" He whispered harshly in Japanese, watching with mounting exasperation as the girl continued looking at him blankly, her eyes betraying a hint of defiance and undeniable irritation. Sesshoumaru had never hated the language barrier between them more; previously, when they have had problems communicating, Kagome would always be resourceful and patient, coming up with ways for them to get their thoughts across. But now, she was obviously not too concerned with what he had to say, and he was left to ramble on and on like a fool.

She could see the way his jaw line hardened as he took in her nonchalant indifference, and it was all too obvious that Sesshoumaru was upset with her. But he didn't really have the right to be upset, did he? A part of her felt guilty, yet another part of her was secretly glad that he got a taste of his own medicine. Now he would know how forlorn she had felt when he left her with 'sayonara', when she did not even know the meaning behind the Japanese word.

"Do you have anything else to add?" Kagome asked coldly in Chinese, and confusion lurked in his eyes as he looked at her. "If not, then excuse me. _Sayonara._"

Turning on her heels, Kagome held her head up and walked away from him. She had used the same Japanese word he had taught her the night before he secretly left, with the intention to hurt him like he had hurt her. But why wasn't there the sense of satisfaction which she had always imagined? Instead, why was her heart arguing with her rationality to turn back to face him?

A started cry escaped her lips when she felt his hand wrap itself around her wrist to bring her hand closer to him, before she struggled to wrench her hand out of his grip, annoyed and shocked by the sudden physical contact.

"Fang kai wo! (Let go of me!)" She cried out in Chinese, fighting his grip only to feel it tighten to the point of being uncomfortable. Kagome was stubborn in her fight, but her stubbornness was obviously no match for Sesshoumaru's, and it wasn't long before she gave up and relaxed in his hold, allowing him to do whatever he intended to.

「奈落」,「騙」,「北京」,「危険」

Sesshoumaru etched the words onto her outstretched palm with his index finger as she watched the characters form with widening eyes.

_Nai Luo (Naraku)…Lie…Peking…Danger. _Kagome identified each character as Sesshoumaru wrote them onto her palm, piecing the individual words together to form a meaning. Was he trying to say that Naraku had lied to her to cheat her into going to Peking where it would be dangerous? But…why would it be dangerous in any way? Naraku was not a malicious person; he was sincere, polite and had definitely shown great appreciation for her performances at Golden Phoenix.

Anger rose in her like a tide when she decided that Sesshoumaru must be lying because he was upset over her potential departure. How selfish of him, she thought furiously. She had no idea how he had managed to find out about the offer from Mr. Naraku to go to Peking, but who was he to tell her not to go, and feed her such absurd reasons?

Kagome had never felt so agitated in a very long time; here she was, deciding to give the chance to go to Peking up, and he just chose to step back into her life out of the blue to tell deceitful tales? Was she now not entitled to decide how her life should be led?

_You've made your choice when you left,_ She thought bitterly. _I don't need this hypocrisy. I don't need your pretentious kindness._

Pulling her hand out of his grasp, Kagome's reversed the hold to bring his outstretched palm closer to her.「不可能」(Impossible), she traced on his palm, staring up into his eyes angrily with her lips pursed in a tight line.

Sesshoumaru closed his eyes to calm the growing frustration within himself; Kagome could be as obstinate as a mule if she truly wished to be so. Could she not see that he was genuinely trying to help her? The vile, unscrupulous Naraku was planning to sell her to Japan, most probably to some brothel or sleazy district, and here she was, thinking that he was a saint?

Sesshoumaru had already taken a huge risk by coming down to Golden Phoenix Lounge to warn her of the dangers, especially when Naraku or any of his cronies could spot him. On top of being attacked or possibly killed, being discovered might even jeopardize his greater agenda, which was something Sesshoumaru could not afford. Yet the idea of sweet, kind-hearted Kagome being sold into prostitution in a foreign land was so horrifying; it made him throw caution to the wind. He had to save her, no matter what it took.

Because of her, he went against his professional ethics and his own resolve to never see her again. _A woman so lovely can only be nothing but trouble,_ that what was one of his mentors had once told him. Kagome had once come so close to trapping him within the spell she had casted so innocently, and here he was, coming back into the trap like a fool even when she was obviously not very happy to see him.

Shaking his head in refutation of what she had written, Sesshoumaru grew even more exasperated inwardly when Kagome pointed at him before tracing the character 「騙」(lie) onto his palm and pointing to herself again. It was a simple message, and though he was slightly upset with it, he had to accept that Kagome was saying that he was the one who was lying to her.

"Wo mei you. (I didn't)" He replied quietly in Chinese, causing another wave of sadness to wash over her upon hearing the unsure and almost childish way in which he had spoken.

"You did!" Kagome could not hold the churning emotions back no more, and what resulted from a momentary lapse in composure was an agitated outburst of pent-up feelings. Then, in a string of rapid Chinese which Sesshoumaru had no way of understanding with his current proficiency in the language, Kagome accused, "I have already tried so hard to forget you. Why must you deliberately come back into my life to confuse me again? It was not easy for me to make the decision…can't you just leave me alone? I don't like you anymore, so don't come looking for me."

Taking two steps back, regarding him with eyes so miserable and conflicting, Kagome turned to go. She would not allow this to affect her, she inwardly decided. She would not allow him to manipulate her emotions so easily. It was her own fault; she was so stupid for not seeing this man for who he really was. He was a mafia member – none of them are decent people, and true enough, she had learnt it the hard way.

She took the first step away, but detected his body's movement from the corner of her eye. Icily, she whispered into the wintry air, knowing that he was surprised by her ability to be so cold and distant like he was. "Don't follow me."

Then she felt it – his solid presence and unmistakable warmth from behind her, enveloping her as he wrapped his arms around her much smaller form. Instinctively, she fought the hold with as much strength as she could muster; Kagome was still very, very confused, upset and furious. Yet her efforts were in vain, for Sesshoumaru did not release his tight hold on her, and it wasn't long before she gave up entirely. After all, she should already know that he is so much more physically superior to her; struggling would merely be waste of time.

She sniffled. Whether it was caused by the surrounding cold or something else within her heart, Kagome did not know. It was getting harder and harder to breathe with her nose aching from the urge to start crying.

"Don't embrace me." A half-hearted whisper left her lips brokenly, flying away in fragments with the wintry winds.

Not knowing if he really understood it or not, Kagome was surprised when all the man did was tighten his arms around her, pulling her closer to him. His warmth was so comforting on this lonely, frosty winter night, and as he leaned in closer to rest his cheek against her head, she caught the familiar masculine scent which had lingered on her bed sheets for so many days until time finally took it away.

From behind her, his left hand gently slid down the curve of her side to reach for hers, bringing the chilly digits the warmth they craved while lifting the palm up to her chest level. With his right hand, he traced the words 「相信我」in Chinese on her palm slowly, allowing her to read each character clearly. _Believe me_…she read the words inaudibly, before a wistful smile flitted across her features, delicate like a winter snowdrop flower.

"How do you expect me to believe you?" She asked softly, remembering the worry, bewilderment, loneliness upon discovering that he had silently left while she was sleeping. It was not that she wished to nurse a grudge against him, but to believe him again was another issue altogether.

But she was such a useless woman, Kagome concluded inwardly. She tried to be strong and determined to not allow him to affect her, accepting the advice and kind words from friends like Xiao Hui, only to have every bit of her earlier resolve dissipate with his presence. All he needed to do was to come to her, and the resentment she felt for him would go away so naturally.

She didn't know if other women in her situation did this, but she had rehearsed again and again in her mind what she would do or say to him should she see him. Why was she unable to do any of that now? Why was she so ready to put her dignity and pride down for this man? She had never ever been like that in the past.

Kagome drew a long, stinging breath of the frosty air, before exhaling a delicate cloud. "You come as you wish, and leave as you wish. What do you take me for?"

As always, Sesshoumaru could not understand a word of what she was saying, but he was not obtuse – he could sense the undercurrent of emotions lurking beneath the sweet, controlled voice which was quivering ever so vulnerably. But this was getting nowhere; he was a man with responsibilities and duties to fulfill, and was probably busy enough with all of them. Yet he couldn't find it within himself to witness her plunge herself into the vicious game men like Naraku play, where there'd be no escape unless she forfeits her life in exchange for the 'game over'.

He had to warn her before it was too late.

But she wasn't listening.

He had to hold on to her unless she slipped through his fingers like dust riding on the Northern winds.

They were so desperately lost in translation, and it just proved to him that the distance between them was very, very tangible in such times.

He lost himself while trying to come up with reasons for being so concerned over this girl's wellbeing.

Then she had turned and said more words to him in Chinese with such a forlorn, pained expression which he could not see when she had been back facing him earlier. Her voice was strained with bewilderment and the remnants of the icy façade which she had so valiantly tried to keep up. She was very upset, and without a doubt, he was the cause of that unhappiness.

Before his rationality could get better of him, Sesshoumaru pulled her into a violent, crushing embrace. Midnight blue silk embroidered with golden bamboo motifs clashed fiercely with the heavy black wool gabardine, and her knees buckled under the sudden force and intensity of the physical contact. Her petite form leaned heavily into his tall, lean frame, and Kagome felt the tips of her heels brush against the stone pavement when Sesshoumaru lifted her effortlessly to meet her lips with his own.

She gasped involuntarily when his impatient hand roamed along the feminine curve of her hip and thighs, exploring her on the surface through the elegant material of her cheongsam. At the same time, Kagome felt the raw waves of unbridled, powerful masculinity from him, and silently decided that she had never encountered someone so tantalizingly raw and forbidden. It scared her, it terrified her-

"Let me go. We can't do this-"

Furiously, exasperatedly, hungrily, he took the golden opportunity to plunder her parted lips, claiming the vermillion-painted petals for himself.

…but it attracted her.

She had never done anything like that before, and she would most probably regret it and be mad at herself for allowing something like that subsequently, but Kagome was too caught up in the moment to stop. Her small hands clenched into tight fists before hitting him on the shoulders half-heartedly in rejection, as if to pacify her own rationality, before calloused, masculine hands gripped each hand by the wrist and pinned them to the brick wall. Her hands were restrained by his, and every movement he made caused the soft flesh of the back of her hands to scrape lightly against the rough surface of the bricks. Yet the pain only served to make the unexpected experience even more real.

"Ima made ichido mo atta koto nai…konna ni boku wo okoraserareru onna… (I've never met a woman who can infuriate me so much…)" He whispered huskily, heatedly between each sinful touch of lips on lips, watching her eyes flutter open to reveal confusion and valiant last struggles.

Molten gold bore intensely into clear taupe, immobilizing her as she stared helplessly into his stormy eyes. Her body fell limp, and she no longer fought him. Kagome could not even resist when Sesshoumaru released her left hand to hold her chin almost painfully with his right hand, lifting her lips to his again to taste the delightful, frustrating and beautiful woman.

A muffled cry of protest escaped Kagome's throat, though she knew that the raging emotions responsible for the cry consisted more of anger at herself. She was mad at herself for being so weak and useless; all Sesshoumaru had to do was restrain her and touch her, and she would be completely at his mercy. It made her despise him, but it also made her despise herself more. She could feel his quickened breathing, hot and arousing, against her chilled skin as he trailed his tip over her bottom lip like a dehydrated man seeking permission to drink from an oasis.

The pressure on her jaw tightened, and the vermillion lips parted again, offering him unbarred access to what she had to offer. Always the opportunist, Sesshoumaru's tongue slipped into her sweet oral cavern. He could taste the lingering tanginess and saltiness of Chinese preserved plums and loquat drink, which came as no surprise – such foods were widely-known as nourishment for the throat, and Kagome was a songstress. Drawing his tongue over hers, he elicited a shudder and a breathy gasp from her, before smirking into the kiss when Kagome instinctively tilted her head to grant him greater access. She did not fight him for dominance; she was inexperienced after all, and the art of such pleasures were something he was only too willing to educate her in.

Both were like drugs for the other; intoxicating, mind-addling, sinful yet so lulling. Nibbling gently on her bottom lip while alternating between almost phantom kisses around her mouth, Sesshoumaru drew Kagome into a tight embrace when he realized she was barely able to stand straight without trembling. Her slight form was obviously weak and vulnerable against the cold, and gasps and breathy whimpers were escaping her lips in the form of tiny clouds which looked like magical dust under the illumination of the dim streetlights. Her hands looped themselves around his neck, pulling herself up higher to compensate for the height difference between them as she allowed him free access to her.

That was all the invitation he needed, and Sesshoumaru had always been an opportunist. When they finally broke apart for the much-needed air, he could see a conflicting blend of confusion, fury and shame in Kagome's eyes. His hold on her loosened and she slid down the wall such that his taller frame was practically looming over hers, with his right forearm propped against the wall above her head so that he wasn't crushing her in any way. A few seconds ticked by in agonizing silence, awkward yet tempting as both contemplated their situation.

Then, she broke the silence. It was a good thing, because with his personality, he would only remain stonily quiet when faced with silence.

"Wo hao hen ni. Ni bo duo le wo de li zhi. (I hate you so much. You took my rationality away.)" She breathed with a visibly heaving chest as the words escaped the almost non-existent gap between trembling lips. Her words fell on deaf ears, for he still could not understand her, except for the basic phrases of 'wo' (I or me) and 'ni' (you).

Damn, it was frustrating. He could not even tell what she was feeling, for she was staring at the ground with her head lowered.

"But I hate myself more, for I allowed you to take it away, without a single bit of wanting to snatch it back."

Then she lifted her head, and he saw a ghost of a smile lingering on her lips. That caught him unprepared; he was blown away by how beautiful she looked in that instant with the slanted beams of moonlight illuminating her feminine features. In the span of a few minutes, she had come to terms with her raging emotions? He did not understand; Kagome was almost as mysterious as he could be if she really wanted to-

Sesshoumaru's eyes widened when he felt her pull him down violently to meet her lips again, before his lids lowered in renewed desire at the feel of her soft, luscious petals pressing themselves eagerly to his. This time round, it was as if something had changed within her – she was not fighting his hold, and neither was there reluctance like the earlier kiss. Kagome was equally fervent if not more, and there was no way he could resist her even if he wanted to. A small hand fisted a handful of his silver ponytail at his nape, while another caressed his cheek innocently yet sensually, dragging the chilled surface of her pale jade bangle over his heated skin.

With a passionate whisper of her Japanese name on his lips, he reversed their roles in this forbidden, exciting kiss, once again dominating her and ensuring that not a centimeter of her sweet mouth was left neglected by his talented tongue. Neither was thinking; they were too focused on simply feeling, alleviating the loneliness they had each felt since separated.

Kagome was just grateful that longing and physical attraction she held for this man was more mutual than she had ever dared to imagine it to be. Even the taste of his lips was masculine - exquisite cognac with a hint of cigar, but the bitterness was not something she was repulsed by. It was him, it was unique to him. Kagome had a rather high tolerance for alcohol as she had discovered a few years back during Chinese New Year when they had a celebration over steamboat, but now, she was so easily intoxicated by the lingering flavor of cognac.

Sighing blissfully, knowing that this man had achieved her forgiveness without words, she whispered his name in return, "Sesshoumaru…"

"Sesshoumaru-sama! Sesshoumaru-sama!"

The male voices came from somewhere down the long alley through the various twists and turns, and as abruptly as they had kissed for the second time, they pulled apart. She fell back against the wall, while he took two instinctive steps back, maintaining the burning eye contact between them though there was a subtle hint of franticness within.

At a loss for what to do, Kagome searched Sesshoumaru's eyes imploringly, reminding him of a vulnerable porcelain doll then. He wished he could talk more to her, but it was only a matter of minutes before Bankotsu, Kyokotsu and the other men would rush into sight.

There was not a minute to lose; he had to go. Being seen with him would bring Kagome nothing but trouble to last her for a lifetime. He had already tainted her with his darkness; there was no way he would immerse her in it by dragging her in.

He broke the eye contact between them, banishing her confused, glassy-eyed from his field of vision before striding away swiftly in the direction he had come from. Still shaken from the intensity of the kisses they had shared and feeling an all-too familiar ache squeeze her heart painfully, Kagome watched silently as he walked away from her again. Step by cruel step, he put distance between them.

From the back, he still looked so powerful and mysterious, and her eyes lingered on the way his silver ponytail rode the wintry winds, flying up with each unfriendly gust, before he undid it to tie his hair neatly again. Then she saw him arrange his coat before reaching into his pocket to retrieve what was unmistakably a handkerchief, bringing the neatly-folded square to his lips to wipe the traces of vermillion lip rouge off.

Kagome closed her eyes in an anguished, parted-lip sigh. Once again, he left without saying goodbye.

There was no meaning in being greedy, she realized sadly as she leaned against the brick wall of the alleyway, pressing her cooling digits to her slightly feverish forehead. The warmth his skin had left in her fingers was dissipating.

The remnants of the delicious pressure of lips against hers were gradually fading.

Once again, there was no point in being greedy.

Borrowing a moment of tenderness to tide oneself over for the lonely night was meaningless.

For if the tenderness did not belong to you, you would still have to return it eventually.

This man…he was not worth waiting for. He was not worth giving up so much for.

_

* * *

To be continued…_


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